Left By The Wayside
by criminally charmed
Summary: A tragedy at a rescue makes Jeff think nothing worse can happen. He was wrong. Alan whump. It's me, what do you expect?
1. Chapter 1

**Left By The Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - Do not own Thunderbird.**_

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AH - OK, I wasn't sure I was going to post this. See, I wrote this one-shot for Supernatural (which I don't own either) at Christmas and I felt it was one of my best pieces of work. Obviously, the readers did not agree as it only received ten reviews. Sigh. So I said to Sammygirl1963 that I didn't think I would post anything else.

_**Yeah, I was sulking.**_

_**But this story came about because of a random comment my mom made at Christmas. So - here we go and I really hope you enjoy it. I will post faster as I have already written several chapters. Oh, and when you see all the titles for the chapter, it will make sense.**_

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Chapter One – You can't save everybody

"Commander!"

Jeff heard the call from his middle son over his wrist communicator, but he completely ignored it. Not since the day he had helped dig through the snow on that mountain in Colorado, had Jeff felt so desperate at a rescue. Jack Roy was somewhere in this burning facility.

Jeff and Jack had gone through astronaut training together. When Jeff had married Lucy, Jack had been there. When Scott was born, Jack had helped Jeff keep it together. As each son was born, Jack had been there with a cigar and a smile. When Jeff started Tracy Enterprises, Jack had helped him start up his business.

Jack had grown bored with corporate life shortly after Gordon's birth. The man had returned to NASA and quickly climbed to a lead position in research. Jack had often joked that he had only "hung out" with Jeff long enough that he was considered too old for heading back into space. The one time Jack had gone on a space mission, he had become nauseated, much to Jeff's amusement.

_Too old, _Jeff snorted to himself. It was more than seventeen years since Jack had returned to the space program and Jeff was six months older than his friend. Yet look at what Jeff was doing.

* * *

"What the hell is Dad doing?" Gordon muttered to John. Thunderbird Five was still down and would be until early fall. It had been less than two months since the Hood's attack and the space station had required major repairs after the missile had ripped through Five.

The blonde astronaut shrugged. He tried not to judge what his father and brothers did when he worked with them on the ground. It was easier – if often scarier – to be on his 'bird, supervising everything from the stars. "I'm sure Dad knows what he is doing, Gordo. Have a bit of faith."

Virgil ran up behind the pair, standing not far from the mobile command post. "The commander isn't responding on the communicator. He can hear me but he's not answering. Scott told him to get out of there, but he ignored him and went further in."

John and Gordon looked at each other and then at Virgil. Without another word, the three middle Tracy sons ran into the burning complex.

* * *

Another piece of equipment fell to the ground, smashing to bits just missing Jeff's head. The former astronaut ignored it as he desperately searched for his old friend.

"_He-help…" _

The sound was so faint over the roar of the flame and the groan of the collapsing facility, Jeff almost missed it. Turning his head toward the whispered plea, Jeff saw the outstretched hand from underneath some fallen equipment. Moving swiftly, the Tracy patriarch was next to the hand and forced the remains of what seemed to have been a cabinet – it was hard to tell from the damage – and finally uncovered Jack Roy.

"I have you," Jeff said calmly as he kneeled beside his old friend.

"Knew you'd come, space-case," Jack muttered.

"Excuse me -"

Jack interrupted as he coughed up some blood. "Farm boy, you can't kid a kidder. I remember when Lucy died. You sat there for hours, rocking Alan. That little boy was in so much pain. He was banged up all to hell and traumatized beyond belief. Whenever Allie would fall asleep, you talked. About Lucy, about the accident, about how there had to be a way to save people before a disaster became a tragedy. I knew you, Tracy. There was no way that you would sit back and accept it as "just one of those things". When you packed up the family and headed to some dot on the map island, I wondered. Then when the first time the Thunderbirds showed up, saving the day – I knew. You had found a way."

Jeff removed his helmet, disregarding the increased risk. "Yeah, you snake-oil salesman. Should have known I couldn't put one past you."

Coughing again, his blood spraying softly, Jack chuckled. "The boys – are they all in on it?"

Nodding, Jeff gave a small smile. "Yep. Even Allie. Did you see that mess with the Hood on the news?" Jack grinned a bit then nodded back. "Allie stopped that monster. My baby. He was the one who fought off the Hood and his goons long enough to save the rest of us on the space station. We got back down and then…"

Jeff's voice trailed off for a moment. He really didn't like to think about how close he had come to losing Alan that day. There were nights he barely slept for the nightmares.

"So the Sprout was the hero, huh?" Jack chuckled. "Atta boy. Always had Lucy's spirit, didn't he?"

Making himself busy, Jeff tried to figure out how he was going to get Jack out of the burning building without causing more harm than good. As far as he could tell, his old friend's body had been pretty much crushed, with scattering of burns from the heated metal. Jeff was sure if it had been anyone else, they would already be dead. But then Jack hadn't been called Mule because of his first name. He was pretty sure if "stubborn" had a picture underneath it in the dictionary, it was Jack's mug shot.

"Yeah, he's a lot like Lucy," Jeff muttered. "Drives me crazy at times. Begged me to have him be home-schooled for years. After the incident with the Hood, I offered to let him do exactly that. What does he say? _"Nah, Dad. I want to go back to school. The coach has been trying to talk me into trying out for the track team. And I know I can pull my grades up. Fermat is talking to some of his geekier peers about finding spots for me in some of the study groups. I love you guys, but there is more of the world than this island." _When I tried to argue, the kid just smiled and said,_ "Dad, I was always scared of something happening to you guys if I wasn't here. Well, I was here. And I still almost lost you. I have to have faith in you. After all, you guys are the Thunderbirds, right?"_ Took my breath away but then I reminded him that he was a Thunderbird also. Well, in training."

"That's a teenager for you," Jack grinned. Jeff would have been equally amused, if not for the blood staining his friend's teeth and lips.

Reaching up, Jack grabbed Jeff's hand. "I'm dying, space-case. You can't save me. But I'm glad it was you that found me. I wanted to tell you -" Jack gasped in pain before continuing. "I wanted to tell you that were a great friend. I know you carried me through the first part of training. I couldn't have gotten to lead this project if I didn't have the background. I loved this. Ten years of research. We were in the process of shutting down this location -"

Jack choked again before spitting out blood. "Lightening. A damn bolt of lightening. Who would have thunk it, huh? Did you get all of my people out?" When Jeff nodded tightly, Jack smiled. "My project is done. It will change the world, you know. You have your boys as your great legacy. This is mine." Sighing, Jack reached up and grabbed his friend's hand. "Like I always told you, you can't save everyone, right, Jeff? Give the boys hugs from Uncle Jack, OK?"

Jeff wanted to argue when he realized the hand he was holding had gone slack in his.

"Dad!" John called out as he ran into the room, followed by Gordon and Virgil.

Virgil kneeled beside the fallen man, thinking that he looked familiar. Checking him over quickly, he shook his head at his family.

Gordon grabbed his father's helmet and forced it back on. "Dad, we gotta get out of here. This place is gonna collapse any minute now."

The four Tracys fled the scene of death and destruction, leaving behind one body – and a piece of Jeff's heart.

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A/N - Yeah, I wounded Jeff emotionally. And I will do worse.

_**Review and stop me from sulking. - CC**_


	2. Ch 2 It Doesn't Matter How Hard You Try

**Left by the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**_Disclaimer - see chapter one_**

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**_Note - Wow. You like me torturing the Tracys, don't you? Well, here is some more._**

**Chapter Two – It Doesn't Matter How Hard You Try**

"And here's to Tracy, the boy-wonder!" Sam Johnson laughed, raising the glass with his milk-shake in it as the group of teenage boys joined in.

Alan Tracy blushed slightly, ducking his head. "C'mon, you jerks," he muttered, trying to hide from his friends.

"R-really, A-Alan," his friend Fermat Hackenbacker stuttered. "Y-you did ou-ou-ou…You did great."

"Yeah, Alan," Mario Gomez agreed. "From C's to straight A's in one fell swoop? AND the look on the dean's face when he had to list you as one of the students approved for the Advanced Placement courses for next year? I thought the old man was going to choke on his own mustache!"

Smiling, Alan played with his pizza slice. He couldn't wait until his dad came to pick them up tomorrow. Underclassmen were dismissed two days before the Seniors, allowing the students preparing to graduate Wharton's more free space. Jeff had promised his youngest son that if the boy pulled up his grades enough, they would take a detour before heading back to the island. Alan had no idea what his dad had planned and he personally didn't care. One-on-one time with his father was precious and rare – Alan planned to make the most of it.

"Tracy!"

The boys all turned to see Coach Michaels approaching them. He grinned at the boys before looking a bit more seriously at Alan. "Pizza and milk shakes? I sure hope that you plan to eat better next fall." When Alan looked puzzled, the coach's grin returned in full.

"Members of the track team are expected to eat right, Tracy."

Alan's eyes went wide at the answer, looking past the coach to where the man had been standing earlier – by the bulletin board. Jumping up, Alan ran over and whooped as he read the team roster for the fall semester.

"One mile, hurdles, and alternate on the relay team! Awesome!" Alan's eyes were dancing as his friends pounded him on the back. Even Fermat got into the act, until his excitement caused him to need his nebulizer.

But not everyone in the room was happy for the youngest Tracy son. Hard eyes glared at the youth. Barry Sheehan watched Alan with disdain as he waited for his own friend to join him.

Paul Han looked at the celebrating teens before switching his gaze to Barry. "What's up with them?"

"Golden Boy Tracy wins again," Barry sneered.

Seeing the team list by Alan's head, Paul shrugged. "Coach has been trying to get him to join the team ever since he saw him out running. One of his older brothers - not the one that won the Gold medal at the Olympics, the one who wrote my astronomy text book – was a track star for Harvard. The whole family is really athletic. At least, that was what they wrote in People."

Barry shook his head. "It's just not fair, Paul. Kid's dad walks in space and now he gets everything. Money, fame, gets into the AP program and onto the track team. It must be nice to have a rich father to grease the wheels."

Paul looked as if he wanted to argue with his friend but decided it wasn't worth it. Barry could really have a hard-on about the rich. Both of the seniors were scholarship students who also held work-study jobs in addition to their classes. Paul's scholarship to Wharton's was based on academics, so it was no surprise that he had been offered another full-ride, this one to Cal-Sci. He would be glad when he headed to the exclusive LA County school. His family was from that area and Paul had missed the California sunshine.

But Barry was on an athletic scholarship. While he had hoped his soccer prowess would score him a spot at a big-ten Ivy League college, he had been lucky to get one to a small mid-west university. Full rides for athletics were not as readily available as many would think and the partial scholarships the bigger schools had offered had still been out of the young man's reach. To see someone like Alan Tracy clawed at him, filling him with envy at the opportunities that would be available to a son of Jeff Tracy.

While Barry continued to glare at Alan, who had rejoined his friends at their table, Paul gave a small smile. He knew that something had happened over Spring Break, something that had really changed Alan Tracy. The kid put one hundred and ten percent into everything these days. If the younger boy was making things happen, it was all of his own doing. Paul had spoken on a few occasions to Fermat Hackenbacker, Alan's roommate. Apparently, Fermat's father worked for Jeff Tracy and the billionaire even paid for the boy's education as part of the elder Hackenbacker's benefits.

It had been Fermat that had let slip that a lot of Alan's misbehaving was more homesickness than anything. Maybe the family had finally let the kid know how much he was loved and missed. Paul often thought that was what a lot of these rich kids needed – to know that they were as important to their family as the next big deal or government talks or exotic vacation.

Paul knew nothing he could say to Barry would change his friend's mind, so he chose to remain silent.

At their table, Alan and his friends were blissfully unaware of the daggers being shot at them from the juice bar. They continued to laugh and joke until Alan's attention was drawn away from the group by a news broadcast. Standing, he moved closer to the large flat screen television mounted on the wall.

"_This is Lisa Lowe, reporting to you live from outside of Santa Fe, New Mexico. A government research facility was the site of a horrific explosion today. The irony was that this facility, where research into new energy sources was going on, was destroyed by a source of energy – a bolt of lightening. While the exact details will not be released until after a full investigation, it became clear that the twenty-six researchers trapped inside could not be rescued by traditional methods. A call went out to the Thunderbirds."_

Alan smiled slightly at the sight of the footage being run of his family arriving on the scene. A small disclaimer of "filmed earlier" ran at the bottom of the screen. The reporter began to speak again.

_The Thunderbirds, with their magnificent machinery, were able to get to twenty-five of the researchers, leading them to safety. I am told the team's commander himself plunged deeper into the inferno, searching for the lead researcher. Tragically, he apparently found the man dead. The body was later removed after the fire was brought under control. We have been told that the identity of the man will be held until next of kin can be contacted. _

As the blonde reporter signed off, Alan worried his lower lip. So focused on how the loss of even one person would affect his family, the youngest Tracy jumped when a hand grasped his shoulder.

"Hey, Al," Sam grinned at the boy. "You so busy watching your heroes that you wanna skip out on your own tribute?"

Alan smiled weakly before shrugging. "Nah, it just reminded me I wanted to call my dad and see when he would arrive tomorrow." Waving at the table, Alan left the snack bar/ recreation area to head back towards his dorm room. He wanted privacy to talk with his father when he checked on his family's well-being.

Fermat watched his friend as Alan left. He really hoped Mr. Tracy did come with his father tomorrow to pick them up. Alan really needed to see that his father was considering the boy a priority in his life or all the progress the youngest son had made since Spring Break could rapidly dissolve.

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Jeff Tracy was sitting at his desk, command and control still up. They had all cleaned up after the rescue and done the debriefing. Once finished, Jeff had sent his sons and Brains to bed, assuring them he would head to his own room soon. John had looked at their father with concern before allowing Scott to lead him away.

Once he was sure he was alone, Jeff pulled a small box from the bottom drawer of his desk. Several pictures and mementoes of days gone by fell from the box. Picking up one picture, Jeff felt tears prick at his eyes. It had been taken at his and Lucy's engagement party. Jack had been there with what Lucy called his "flavor of the month". Seeing the look on Jack's face in the photograph, Jeff knew why his old friend has never committed to one woman. It had not been that the ability to love someone in that way was alien to Jack. It had been the fact that the only woman he had ever wanted that way had married his closest friend.

Over the years, Jeff had caught the way Jack would look at Lucy. It wasn't covetous or lustful. But it was the same look Jeff had in his own eyes when he looked at his wife. And Jack had grieved as deeply as Jeff when Lucy died. Unlike Jeff, however, Jack had not cut the boys from his life for a time. As soon as Jeff began burying himself in work, Jack had placed his own career in stasis for the nearly three years it took Jeff to pull his head out of his posterior. Frankly, Jeff didn't think any of his sons would have done so well if "Uncle Jack" hadn't helped out as much as he had.

When Jeff began to form the intent for International Rescue, Jack recommitted himself to his work. The research had already begun for his top-secret project and the day after Alan's sixth birthday, Jack Roy had left Kansas, heading for New Mexico to start the practical side of his work. By the time Jeff moved his family to Tracy Island, the youngest Tracy would barely remember Jack Roy.

As if the brief thought of Alan had triggered a reaction, Jeff's vid-phone began to signal an incoming call. Jeff considered ignoring the summons when he saw the ID indicate it was Alan.

Sighing, Jeff failed to connect Alan's current "can-do" attitude with the boy whose face filled the screen. Instead, the Tracy father seemed to be flashing back to the days when calls from his youngest son were something to dread.

"What is it Alan?"

Shaken slightly at his father's tone, Alan decided hanging up would be worse than pushing forward.

"I saw the rescue on the vid at the snack shop and-" Jeff cut in on Alan's words at that point, startling the teen into silence.

"The snack shop? Aren't you in the middle of finals? For the love of – Alan, can't you commit to anything? You promised me that if you went back to Wharton's it would be with a good attitude. I suppose you barely passed any of your classes and now you just want to come home to play at being a Thunderbird. Well, you are in for a big surprise young man-"

Now it was Jeff's turn for his words to be cut off as he finally looked, really _looked_ at his teenage son. Alan's expressive blue eyes had gone from shocked to heartbroken in a matter of moments. Jeff knew it had been his own grief over Jack's death searching for someone to hurt as badly as he himself currently was. Sadly, Jeff Tracy was painfully aware that he had succeeded. Alan had always been far more sensitive than he let the world see. And no one had the power to hurt the youngest Tracy more than his own family.

Especially the father he hero-worshiped.

"I'm sorry I've been such a disappointment to you, sir. Don't worry about coming tomorrow. I'll hitch a ride home with Brains and Fermat. I don't want to be a bother." Before Jeff could even begin to apologize, Alan terminated the call.

Staring at the now darkened screen, Jeff buried his face in his hands. _Oh, God, Allie – I am so sorry. _

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Alan sat in his dorm room for a moment before wiping furiously at the tears that had gathered in his eyes. Since they had been playing a pick-up game of basketball before heading for pizza, Alan was already dressed in gym shorts and a t-shirt. Quickly switching his sneakers for his track shoes, Alan scribbled a quick note to Fermat.

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Thirty minutes after Alan had left the room, Fermat returned to it. Opening the door, the myopic youth found his greeting dying on his lips as he looked around the empty room.

Most of Alan's and Fermat's belongings were already packed and ready to go when their fathers arrived the next day. The Hackenbackers were planning on flying commercial to California on their way back, so that they could stop and see some old friends in Los Angeles. Alan didn't know it yet, but the Tracys were supposed to spend a few days in New York together before heading back to the Island. It wasn't two weeks in Disney World but to both sons it would mean the world.

Moving over to the vid-phone, Fermat found Alan's note propped up against it.

_Fermat –_

_I needed some air. Went for a run. May not be back until late. Head to bed, don't worry about me. _

_I know your dad wants you to meet some old friends from Cal-Tech, but if needed, can I hitch a ride back with you?_

_~ Alan_

"Oh, A-Alan," Fermat sighed. "What s-set you and your d-dad off this t-time?"

Knowing he wouldn't get an answer tonight, Fermat sighed again before heading to bed. Tomorrow looked like it would be a long day.

* * *

Barry Sheehan hated many things about Wharton's. He hated the fact that he was here by virtue of a talent yet looked down on by others who were only here because of their families' wealth and connections. He hated the fact that his scholarship paid for his room, board and tuition but any necessities or luxuries were something he had to pay for himself. It was why students like Barry or Paul worked their part-time jobs at the school. While the jobs paid better than similar ones would off-campus and their "bosses" were far more accommodating than others would be, understanding that their Wharton's commitments always came first, being seen doing "servants" work by their fellow students always made Barry feel as if the school was trying to underscore the differences between the two groups.

But the one thing Barry did like about his part-time job was the access it gave him. Early on, Barry had discovered that only the main gate was manned by security after nine at night. The others were secured and left locked until the morning. Most of the nighttime security was focused on the dormitory area, so as to protect the "assets" of the rich and famous.

With this knowledge and access, Barry had been able to make a copy of the pass-key to the back gate and the access road that was usually used for supply deliveries. He had also scored a key to one of the school's "unmarked" cars. There was a magnetic sign that could be placed on any of the vehicles but sometimes not advertising the fact that the car belonged to the exclusive boys' school was considered yet another security feature. But all this meant to Barry was that he could sneak off campus to attend parties and no one at Wharton's was ever the wiser.

Paul had known about Barry's extracurricular activities for some time, but as long as his friend wasn't hurting anyone, he kept silent about them. In turn, Barry had tried to get Paul to join him for months.

"_C'mon, Paul,"_ Barry would cajole_. "You gotta live a little!"_

With graduation days away, and all of his hard work having paid off on a full academic scholarship to the college of his dreams, Paul had finally agreed. After all, soon Paul would be in California and Barry in Iowa. Chances were, they might never see each other again. Might as well end things on a high note…

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Alan wasn't sure how long he had been running. But running allowed Alan to block out the hurtful words his father had hurled at him, and he could pretend that the only thing bothering his eyes was the pollen that still hung heavy in the night air or dust from the dirt access road he was running along at the edge of the thick woods that surrounded Wharton's…

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"Oh, man," Paul groaned. "How can you do that every chance you get? I'm exhausted and my stomach wants to hurl."

Barry chuckled, the mix of beers and marijuana having raised his mood to a sufficient high. "Can't do the weed during soccer season in the fall. The school tests for steroids and it would show up as well. But it helps during the rest of the year."

Paul shook his head as he helped Barry close and secure the gate. As they climbed back into the "borrowed" car, he shrugged. It was a good thing he wasn't exactly heading for a party school. Tonight had shown him that would be a waste of time.

On the other hand, tonight had reminded Barry of some cold, hard facts. Watching the revelry, he had been forced to accept that the small college he was attending had no real party scene. But one of the other celebrants had given him the name of a contact in Des Moines, one who might be willing to help Barry get the good times rolling there. With a few joints and some beer, any place could become party-central. And Barry would be the center of everything.

Paul was busy trying not to be sick while Barry's mind was filled with thoughts of how he could turn his college disappointment into the opportunity of a life time. As such, it was too late – and their drug addled systems to slow to react – when they realized that their weaving vehicle was not the only thing on the narrow road.

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There were no headlights to snag Alan's attention, since Barry had never turned them on once back on campus. Headlights in the supposedly empty part of campus could draw attention – the last thing Barry ever wanted. Lost in thought, Alan barely heard the car before the overwhelming pain consumed him.

Barry and Paul both stared in horror when they realized that someone was running along the side of the road. With Barry's delayed reaction, he actually made matters worse when he jerked at the wheel. Instead of turning away from the runner at the last moment, the car slammed into the jogger, sending the victim to the side of the road.

An early summer storm, combined with ice storms back in March, had left a great deal of debris along the side of the road. Since the road was only used for deliveries and most of the student body – forget their wealthy parents – didn't even know it existed, clean up was considered a low priority there and would not be done until summer break. It was among the broken branches and dead leaves that an injured Alan Tracy now laid.

The moon was the only light that night, but it was full and clear, allowing the two seniors to see their victim.

"Jeeze, Alan!" Paul muttered as he bent down to check on the freshman, only to be yanked back by his friend.

"Are you nuts?" Barry snapped.

"He's hurt!" Paul cried out only to have his mouth covered by Barry's beefy hand.

"If he's alive, he won't be for much longer," Barry reasoned. "And how do we explain this. _Oh, headmaster, we were off campus against regulations, in a stolen car, drinking underage and using drugs. We hit some rich kid by accident, but we're real sorry._ Yeah, right," he growled. "The kid dies and we go to jail instead of off to college. But if we leave him here, by the time he's found – if he's found – no one will be able to prove we had anything to do with it."

Paul looked to argue more, when he found himself pushed against the car. "Don't you get it, Paul? That's not just any rich kid. It's Jeff Tracy's son. The son of a man who walked on the moon, the son of a national hero, the son of a billionaire, the son of a living freakin' legend! Any one else, we would get a slap on the wrist and could probably still make freshman orientation at our new schools. With him, they'll toss us in the deepest pit they can find and forget about us."

Seeing Paul begin to weaken, Barry pushed his last knife home. "You gotta do this, Paul. For your family. For their future as well. You know how much this means to them. You told me how much they have sacrificed to get you this far."

Slumping, Paul crawled back into the car while Barry grabbed some branches and other natural debris and began to cover up Alan's still form. With any luck, they would act as compost and hasten decomposition of the youngest Tracy son, destroying evidence with it.

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**_A/N - Was that sufficient Alan-whump for everyone?_**

**_I was so thrilled at the response to chapter one. Thank you so much! I appreciate the support more than I can ever say. Please, keep my momentum going and review. - CC_**

**_Alan: OMG! Scott! Did you see what that crazy woman did to me this time! She hit me with a car!_**

**_Scott: WHAT!_**

**_CC: Um, guys, I'm sorry, but the story popped into my head. See, my mom was talking to my nephew - Timmy, the one at college, he's a good kid - and she was saying how I shot you, abducted you, traumatized you, hit you with a car...And I was like - WHOA! I never hit Alan with a car._**

**_Alan (muttering darkly): It was one of the few things you never hit me with._**

**_CC: But Alan! You are the baby, the one everyone wants to protect and take care of. In each genre, there is one character that pushes everyones' buttons, the one person that causes the most agnst and anguish when they are hurt. In Thunderbirds genre, you are the It Guy._**

**_Scott: Frankly, lady, you are dangerous. What's next? Some dangerous disease like scarlet fever or menengitis?_**

**_CC: (blushing) Well, actually, I gave Alan MRSA. Little Miss Bump gave him scarlet fever. Oh, and she also gave him a really bad case of chicken pox. Spense gave Alan menengitis. That was in the same series she had him kidnapped and taken from the family by Child Welfare. (sighs) That was a great series. It so inspired me to start writng about you guys._**

**_Alan: Hey! You have to be careful, CC. You could inspire others to hurt me. (CC mutters something.)_**

**_Scott: Um, CC, what the heck was that?_**

**_CC: Scott, stop glowering at me. It so doesn't work. But I do have to say, Sammygirl1963 gave Alan malaria. She did it for my birthday. Wasn't that sweet? (Tracys both glare at her.) Um, never mind._**

**_Alan: (sighs) Oh well, Scott. I read CC's home page. And she swears she doesn't write death fics. So this should end well. _**

**_Scott: We'll see._**


	3. Chapter 3 Or How Brave You Are

**Left By The Wayside**

**By Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer – See Chapter One**_

_**Wow. You REALLY like Alan whump, don't ya?**_

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Chapter Three – Or How Brave You Are

Fermat Hackenbacker woke slowly, blinking as he grabbed his glasses and put the spectacles on, seeing that his alarm clock read five in the morning. Looking around, his jaw dropped at the sight of Alan's undisturbed bed. While Alan being up early and making his own bed was not unheard of, the fact that the note Alan had wrote last night was in the same spot – exactly the same spot – that had Fermat so concerned.

Before calling anyone, Fermat checked the security log program for their room. Just as he feared, the last person to enter the room had been himself. Alan had entered and left but never returned.

A sense of panic momentarily overwhelmed the young teen. Fermat forced back his fear before it could bring on an asthma attack. Heading over to the vid-phone, Fermat dialed the security desk. When they answered, Fermat began to speak.

"Th-this is F-Fermat Hackenbacker. My roommate went f-for a run last night and never c-c-came back. His name? A-Alan Tracy."

Wow. Fermat hadn't known the retired cop who worked the over night shift could move that fast.

* * *

Headmaster Oliver Bean was not a morning person. Fumbling for the phone, he grumbled a greeting. "El-lo?"

The words coming from the other end of the phone woke Bean faster than being splashed with cold water. One of the students was missing. And not just any student. Alan Tracy, the youngest son of billionaire Jeff Tracy, was missing. Bean had been delighted when the boy had transferred in after the start of the fall semester. They had already known that the accident at the youngster's last school hadn't really been his fault. Defective equipment and unsupervised students in a chemistry lab was a bad combo. Alan Tracy believed he had been transferred because everyone felt it was his fault. But Jeff Tracy had said he hadn't wanted Alan to return to his old school because he felt that if they were so quick to blame Alan without all the facts, how could he trust his son's safety and well-being to them?

For the first few months that Alan was at Wharton's, Oliver was unsure if Alan would remain at the school. The boy was constantly day-dreaming, refusing to become part of the school, basically skating through life at Wharton's. But when he returned from Spring Break – suddenly, Alan Tracy was everything Bean had hoped a son of Jeff Tracy would be. Students began to flock to the freshman, his grades rose meteorically, and Alan had even tried out for a sports team. Track, he thought. It was obvious the boy was destined to become an ideal model of what a Wharton's boy should be.

And now, he was missing. Security had checked the logs. Alan Tracy had entered his dormitory at almost quarter past eight. At eight-sixteen, he entered his room. Before eight-thirty, Alan had exited both his room and the dormitory. As a freshman, Alan was required to be in his dorm by nine-thirty and in his room – preferably with lights out – by ten. While the youngest Tracy might have flaunted certain rules previously, one that he had followed without failure had been Freshman curfew. So for Alan to have not returned to his room was a very bad sign.

Bean sighed as he finished getting dressed. He wanted to check out a few things before calling Jeff Tracy. The police – hell, the FBI – might need to be notified. If it turned out that the son of one of the most famous men in the world had been abducted from his school, Oliver Bean would find his tenure as the headmaster at one of the most elite schools in the country to be far shorter than he could wish.

* * *

"Dad?"

Jeff Tracy looked up as his second son came into his office.

"Dad, you said you would get some rest. Have you been here since we left last night?" John sat down in front of his father, worry in his blue eyes.

It was a bitter pill in how much this son reminded him of the son he had hurt so badly last night. Leaning back in his chair, the Tracy father sighed. "I did drift off for a bit. But I couldn't sleep."

John's face grew softer as sympathy was reflected in it. "Dad, we are all so sorry about Uncle Jack. I can't believe he's gone. I remember how much he helped out after…" John's voice drifted off as he worried about his father's reaction.

Jeff smiled sadly. "I know how much Jack helped you and Scott after Lucy died. Mom had her hands full with Dad's illness and I was pretty much a non-entity. He loved you boys but he backed away after I started being around. Jack was concerned if he was around too much that you boys, especially the younger ones, would view us both as father-figures."

Smiling, John nodded. "I can understand that. Alan-" At Jeff's quickly shuttered expression; the second Tracy son broke off abruptly. "OK, Dad. Something happened with Alan. What is it?"

A raised eyebrow was Jeff's only outward sign of surprise. But even that was probably unnecessary. John could always read his father like a book.

"Alan called after you boys left me earlier. I – I thought he was calling to say something had happened. Grades or something. I let him have it with both barrels. God, John, I hurt Alan so much. I was hurting so badly and didn't care who I hurt back."

"How did he take it?" John asked quietly. Part of him wanted to rage at his father but nothing he would have said could hurt worse than what Jeff was doing to himself.

"Badly," Jeff admitted. "He shut down completely and hung up. But not before telling me that he "didn't mean to be a bother" and that he would return with the Hackenbackers."

"Did you try calling him back?" John queried.

Jeff nodded. "I waited a few minutes. Now that was a big mistake. Fermat answered and said that Alan went for a run."

"And the Sprout only does that when he is upset," John murmured before grinning. "Well, and when he's worried. Or anxious. Or has too much energy."

A small smile crossed Jeff's face. "Being the youngest of five has taught the kid to be fast."

"Actually," Scott drawled as he entered the room, "I think it has a lot more to do with being Gordo's partner in crime."

"Hey!" Gordon exclaimed as he followed behind, Virgil beside him. "You can't blame it all on me."

"Nope," Virgil replied cheerfully as he bit into an apple. Swallowing, he continued. "Just most of it, fish-face."

Any response Gordon would have made was cut off by the vid-phone signaling that a call was incoming. Seeing the caller ID as Wharton's, Jeff grew concerned. He could only hope that Alan hadn't acted out in his justifiably upset state.

Headmaster Oliver Bean greeted Jeff politely but with a touch of anxiety that immediately worried Jeff. If Alan were in trouble, anxiety would not be an emotion that anyone from his school should be displaying.

"Mr. Tracy, um, Alan, uh-"

"Headmaster Bean, with all due respect, I prefer directness," Jeff interrupted as every parental instinct went on high alert. Glancing briefly at his older sons, he saw the same amount of worry on them as well.

Bean gulped and spoke once more. "Mr. Tracy, last night, Alan left his dorm room to go out for a run."

"I'm aware of that, Headmaster," Jeff began to explain. "I tried calling Alan last night and his roommate, Fermat, told me."

Two more gulps were needed before the headmaster could continue. "Well, Mr. Tracy, _Alannevermadeitback_"

Jeff blinked at the rapid sentence that had blurred into one word that took a moment for him to decipher. "What do you mean, he never made it back? Where is my son?"

The headmaster was visibly sweating, having never encountered the wrath of a Tracy before. "When young Mr. Hackenbacker awoke, he realized Alan had never returned, so he called security. They in turn did a system check and discovered Alan had not come back to his dorm. A campus wide search turned up nothing and we verified with the gate that they had also had no sign of him as well. We have alerted the authorities."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Jeff responded as he turned off the vid-phone. Rising, he started to leave the room only to realize his other sons were following. "Boys, you can't come as well. International Rescue is needed by the world-"

John cut his father off and spoke bluntly. "Alan is our world, Dad. And he's taken second place to International Rescue once too many times in his life. We're going with you." Turning to his brothers, he gave assignments. "Virg, set up the auto-response. We're off-line until further notice. Scotty, ready Tracy One, it's the fastest one besides the 'Birds. Gordy, get the ready bags and load them into the plane. I'll go tell the Kyranos and grab Brains. Fermat will need him-" John stopped before he could utter the unimaginable.

"Yes," Jeff agreed quietly. "Fermat will need him."

They all moved out to finish their tasks as quickly as possible so that they would head out just as fast. Alan needed them. And this time, they would be there for him.

* * *

In the woods surrounding the exclusive boarding school, the once clear skies of the night before had given way to overcast skies. Before long, rain began to softly fall, turning leaves and other natural debris into a sodden blanket. Underneath the forested covers, Alan Tracy stirred slightly, trying to force his eyes open.

Pain. Alan could not recall so much pain. Yet even as he thought that, the teenager had a flash of being in incredible pain, terrified by the smothering blanket of cold and white. The avalanche? Was he remembering the avalanche? While he did have some memories of that traumatic event, they had faded with time. Now as the rain forced the leaves and branches over him, blocking away light and restricting his air, Alan felt the same terror he had known as a toddler.

"Dad," Alan whispered softly before blessed darkness took him once more, freeing him from the pain that swamped his body and the overwhelming fear that there was no one coming to his rescue this time.

_**

* * *

**_

A/N – Several people have said that they thought Jeff blowing up at Alan – wrongly – was realistic. So I hope you found everyone's reaction to Alan being missing as realistic as well. With the events of the Hood being so recent, I felt that the Tracys would want to occasionally put their family first. Especially since John – as you will see – has spoken with Alan and knows how much he used to feel insignificant to his family. Now that Alan doesn't believe that, John is aware that it wouldn't take much for Alan to suffer from poor self-worth again.

_**This is a bit shorter, but it felt right to end it here. I am really in awe of how much you like this story. So THANKS! You have really made me feel wonderful and encouraged to keep this tale going.**_

_**And as always, thanks to Sammygirl1963 for her beta work and never-ending cheerleader skills! - CC**_


	4. 4It Doesn't Even Matter If It's Some

**Left By The Wayside**

**By Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer – see chapter one**_

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Well, I guess if people read it even with alerts down, you must be doing something right. And this one is MUCH longer.

**Chapter Four - ****It Doesn't Even Matter If It's Someone You Love**

Tracy One soared through the skies, enroute to the small Springfield Airport, which was close to Wharton Academy. Scott, admittedly the best flier in the family, was pushing the small jet to its limit. They would doubtlessly need to work on the engine once they got Alan back safely.

Each member remained silent, lost in their own thoughts, until Gordon broke the silence on the plane. "Dad, did you – I mean…" He sighed in frustration. "No, I guess you would have no idea what Alan was doing out that close to curfew."

John's lips tightened and Jeff looked away from his family. Brains began to busy himself with his laptop before looking up at the Tracy father.

"F-Fermat sent me a message. The p-p-p," the scientist stuttered before trying again. "The authorities s-said they w-would w-want to t-t-talk to him further but will wait until I get there f-for most of the questions. B-but he sh-showed them a note."

"A note?" Virgil asked. "What did it say? Maybe there was a clue to where Alan went."

Brains looked at Jeff who only nodded tightly. "F-Fermat sc-scanned it b-before it was t-taken from him." He clicked on a few keys before turning around the screen so it could be seen.

_Fermat –_

_I needed some air. Went for a run. May not be back until late. Head to bed, don't worry about me. _

_I know your dad wants you to meet some old friends from Cal-Tech, but if needed, can I hitch a ride back with you?_

_~ Alan_

"I don't get it," Gordon asked, puzzled. "Alan was supposed to ride home with you, Dad. Well, after a detour. It was why the Hackenbackers were flying commercial to California."

"Yeah, Dad," Virgil chimed in. "Didn't you manage to get tickets to the premier of that sci-fi movie Alan's been dying to see? Your secretary called to confirm she had them for you at the office."

Scott didn't take his eyes from the controls but his jaw had become tense. "I know the tickets were a surprise, Dad, but you didn't cancel on Allie, did you? I understand that your upset about Jack but the last thing the Sprout needs was you to bail on him." The _again _was silent but heard by the entire family.

"Scott," John warned quietly, which only made the rest of his brothers eye him suspiciously.

Aware that his sons were about to snap at John for hiding something, Jeff decided to come clean. "Alan – well, Alan called after the rescue. In fact, after the rest of you went to get some sleep. I snapped at him for hanging out at the snack bar instead of studying for his finals-"

"Dad," Gordon interrupted, whispering in his shock. "Freshmen finish their finals first. Alan would have been done a couple of days ago. Fermat had a mixed grade class that didn't test until yesterday. Otherwise, Alan would have let you pick him up after he finished."

"Alan also wanted to get his grades and find out if he made the track team," Virgil added. "He wanted to be able to tell you for sure rather than just wait until the results came in the mail."

John shrugged when his father looked at him. "Al's been talking about it for a couple of weeks. He wanted to surprise you if he did as well as he thought he would."

"He d-did," Brains said softly. "F-Fermat d-didn't give me d-details j-just that Alan had d-done w-w-well."

"So what did I do?" Jeff berated himself. "I start blasting into my son when the kid was happy, and do everything I can to tear him down. If I know Alan, he was just worried about us after seeing the rescue on the vid."

"Dad," Virgil said gently. "None of us blame you. And we know Al – the kid wouldn't make us all frantic like this. Even if he stayed out late, he wouldn't hide out."

"Yeah," Gordon smiled sadly. "We know Alan and he won't hide from trouble. More like he runs straight at it."

Jeff gave his sons a small smile before turning to stare out the window, fingering a picture of all five boys taken just before Alan returned to Wharton's. He prayed that it wasn't the last time he had all of his sons together.

_Lucy, please – Be with our baby boy. I am so frightened for him. I don't know where he is. Look out for him._

As they rapidly approached the Eastern Seaboard of the United States, most of the Tracy sons were like Jeff, lost in thoughts and silently praying that the baby they loved so much would be alright. Because each of them was thinking in some way or another, that any other answer than finding Alan was unacceptable as an outcome.

But in the pilot's seat, Scott Tracy gripped the controls tighter than necessary. A part of him wanted to yell at Jeff. Scott loved his father, and - much like his brothers - hero-worshiped the man. But Alan was _his _baby as much, if not more, than he was Jeff's. Scott had never abandoned the boy, and he was sure he had never hurt Alan as much Jeff had.

His brothers may not blame Jeff if anything had happened to Alan. But Scott wasn't sure he would forgive their father if they didn't bring his little brother home safe…

* * *

Paul Han emerged from a building; having just finished his last final. He was lucky that most of the final was based on a team project and that the other members of his team had been willing to give most of the verbal presentation. Everyone, from his teammates to the teacher, all knew Paul had done most of the work, so his relative silence was merely attributed to his natural shyness and he lost no points on what was surely an A-plus presentation.

The truth, however, was that between his hangover and the other traumatic event of last night, Paul was sure he would never feel right again. Sighing, Paul turned to head to his dorm, only to be stopped by campus security.

Producing his student ID at the man's request, Paul asked what was going on. The security guard looked torn between concern and barely concealed excitement.

"A student went missing last night. All students are being asked to head to either the gym or the recreation center. The headmaster wants to keep everyone together and available for questioning."

Gulping slightly, Paul took his ID back and smiled weakly. "Um, I do work-study for the snack shop. Since that's in the rec center, I'll head over there and see if the manager could do with some help."

Walking away, Paul hoped that his slight shaking was hidden. He had no doubt who the missing student was and it ate at him that he knew where Alan was. Or, maybe, he knew where Alan's body was.

_Remember the family, _he berated himself. _I have to remember them. If anyone finds out, it will destroy them and what about everything they sacrificed to get me to this point? _

But the words rang hollow to Paul. He thought about the fact that Alan Tracy also had a family that doubtlessly loved him. Would the death of the youngest son destroy the Tracys?

* * *

Fermat sat in the snack shop, staring out the window sightlessly at the grounds. His friends kept trying to get the younger boy to eat something or at least respond to them, but all of Fermat's thoughts were on Alan. It was with a vague air that he spotted Paul Han entering the eatery.

"Hey, Hackey-sack," Paul jokingly teased Fermat as he kneeled down by Fermat's chair.

"Hey, Han-dy dandy," Fermat tried to return the tease, only to choke up. Breathing deeply to prevent an asthma attack, Fermat looked over at Paul. The Freshman and the Senior had formed an unlikely friendship in a Advanced Placement mentoring program, designed to help make sure younger students didn't burn out too quickly.

"So," Paul chose to act dumb. "Do you know what's going on? Security just said a student was missing."

Mario and Sam were sitting across from Fermat, both uncharacteristically quiet before Sam spoke up. "Alan Tracy is missing. Went for a run last night and never came back."

"Maybe he ran away." Paul said weakly.

All three Freshmen shook their heads before Mario responded. "No way. Not Alan. If he gets in trouble, he admits it and takes what's coming. And his dad was coming for him today. Alan loves his family, calls them his heroes. He would never do anything to make them worry."

A teacher approached the group, handing Mario a note before leaving. He sighed as he read it. "My father's PA is here to get me. He was turned away at the gate and wants me to know he will wait at a hotel in town."

"My mother's secretary sent the same message a little while ago," Sam groaned. "I don't look forward to that lecture. Like this is my fault."

"W-well, it's not A-Alan's either," Fermat cried out, tears gathering in his eyes.

Groaning again, Sam back peddled. "Sorry, Fermat. You know I didn't mean that. I'm worried about Alan as well."

"Yeah," Mario agreed. "We all are in the same boat and no one blames Alan. I tell you, though, no matter what has happened, if it turns out security slipped up – well, the media will have a field day if only because of whom Alan's dad is."

"It shouldn't matter who his father is," Paul said, guilt overwhelming him.

"We know that," Sam shrugged. "But tell the headmaster that. And you know the media would be bad no matter who it was that went missing from a school that makes a big deal about how secure their grounds are. That it's the son of Jeff Tracy will just guarantee that this will go from a news flash to headline news."

Paul just nodded and headed towards the counter in order to help out. He was quick to realize that the boys being kept in the snack shop were all friends, classmates or dorm neighbors of the missing student. Someone was quick to say that most of the students were watching a movie set up in the gym, while a few others were hanging out in another part of the recreation center. A small game room had been turned into an interview room. What some of the boys were not aware of but Paul overheard was that as the parent – or the person picking them up, as they were often not the parents – the police were getting clearance to speak to the student. He watched as Mario was tapped on the shoulder and led into the small room to talk to the waiting detective.

* * *

Fortunately, John had made a habit of "finding something to do" when he became anxious. It was why no one had argued with him when he had taken charge and given out assignments after the news first came in. When the rest of his family was on a rescue, John would busy himself with monitoring every possible detail that existed. He wondered if his father noticed that John's follow-up reports of the rescues tended to contain minute details such as weather and wind speeds at the accident sites.

Jeff, if he had been asked, would have said he noticed John's habit of making sure the tiniest details had been noted. It was why he was not surprised to see a rental car waiting for them. As Scott snatched up the keys, the others merely shrugged and climbed into the SUV after stowing the luggage in the back.

John was about to say something when his cell phone/PDA beeped. Looking at the device, John sighed before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. When he opened them once more, the older blonde Tracy son noticed that his entire family seemed to be watching him. Giving a weak smile, he explained.

"I contacted Lady Penelope before we left the Island. She checked – the Hood and all of his associates are still securely enjoying "the Crown's hospitality". Lady P also said she would head over if we needed her to."

Jeff allowed himself a small smile at Penny's description of the criminals' incarceration before noticing the scowl on his oldest son's face. Scott, intense at the best of times, would be in mother-hen overload and would find nothing amusing until they found Alan. Turning back to John, Jeff shook his head.

"Tell Penny thank you, but not now. And let her know we'll keep her in the loop."

John nodded as Virgil gave an approving look. "Lady P adores Alan, and so does Parker. They'll appreciate that."

"Good thing Parker likes Alan so much," Gordon muttered. "He baby-sat the kid enough."

Smiling, John agreed. "Parker always enjoyed it. And he liked teaching Alan stuff."

"Like what?" Virgil asked. "Self-defense? I thought Scott taught the kid karate."

"Oh, that too," John snickered. "Scott taught Alan karate but Parker taught him some boxing. And how to pick locks. And how to drive."

"Drive?!" Gordon said in shock. The others were surprised as well but Gordon had beaten them to the punch.

"Yeah," John grinned. "Alan can drive now. And no, I don't know how or when. Just something he let slip during Spring Break."

"What about the lock picking?" Virgil groaned. "We should be more worried about that."

"Just use electronic locks, if you want, Virgil," Gordon reasoned.

Brains and John exchanged looks that caught Jeff's attention. "Wo-kay," he drawled. "What was that look for?"

John shrugged as he looked at Brains before muttering, "The Sprout may have some hacking skills."

"S-some?" Brains squeaked out. "F-Fermat says he…Well, actually, F-Fermat s-says he c-c-can't tell on most of them. H-hackers c-code of honor."

Jeff looked wide-eyed at his sons before turning back, noticing that they were almost at Wharton's. "So," he sighed, "you are telling me that my barely fifteen-year-old son can drive without a license, hack into computers and pick locks."

"Well," Gordon gave a small smile, "at least Alan has hobbies."

Jeff didn't correct Virgil for smacking the back of Gordon's head.

It saved him the bother.

* * *

As they approached the main gate of Wharton's, Scott was forced to slow down abruptly when he realized the entrance was being blocked by people.

"What is it?" Gordon asked as he leaned forward.

"Maybe its family members," John mused. "Most people would want to get their kids if another student went missing."

Brains rolled his eyes and shook his head. He wasn't sure if the Tracys realized how few parents actually picked up the students from Wharton's. Secretaries, Personal Assistants, even the occasional Au Pair, but most of the students had little interaction with their actual parents. The scientist was grateful for the top-notch education that his son was getting at the exclusive academy but he was equally aware that the social setting was one that Fermat would only be included in because of the Tracys. While the family put little worth into high society, preferring to judge people by their character versus the Forbes listing or social pedigree, Brains was painfully aware of how Fermat was excluded from some parts of Wharton's because of who he was - or rather, who he wasn't.

Frankly, it was something that really didn't bother his painfully shy son. And Brains was grateful that most people only saw the Hackenbackers as employees of the Tracys, never appreciating how close father and son were to the entire Tracy family. It gave Fermat a degree of freedom that came from anonymity.

Alan, however, had been born the son of a millionaire, the off-spring of a living legend. Now Jeff was a billionaire and more famous than ever, even with the reclusive life-style he chose to lead. As such, anything that his sons did was considered newsworthy. Until now, the world was ignorant as to where Alan Tracy attended school. That ended today.

Jeff bit his lip to stop from yelling at the reporters who stuck microphones and cameras at the SUV, trying to get the best shot or a snip of a quote from the family. He was grateful that all of them were wearing sun glasses because of the early summer sun that had been peaking in and out of the clouds.

Finally, police officers managed to clear a path for the SUV after the guard at the gate recognized Scott. "Mr. Tracy," he said quietly when the vehicle was pulled equal to the gate house.

Scott blinked when he realized the man was talking to him and not Jeff. "Uh, hi - "

The guard smiled slightly. "Name's Rusty. I was on duty when you dropped Alan off after Spring Break. You helped out when that reporter was harassing Ambassador Gomez's son."

"Yeah," Scott muttered softly. "Got lucky he didn't recognize me or he would have realized where Alan went to school."

Rusty frowned at the reporters before shaking his head. "Well, I guess it's out now. Someone must have let it slip exactly who is missing." Stepping back, he waved them through, adding, "I hope you find Alan OK. He's a really good kid. Always says thanks to the staff. A lot of these kids don't even bother to know our names. Alan's not like that. You folks raised that kid right."

Scott nodded his head, unable to say anything in return. Receiving that bit of sympathy frightened him more than he could say. All he could do was pray that – No. He refused to consider Alan being gone for good. Not their baby.

Frankly, he didn't think the Tracys could handle that.

* * *

Headmaster Oliver Bean had given instructions that Jefferson Tracy was to be escorted to the school's recreation center the moment the billionaire arrived. As that was in line with what Detective Nathan Matthews wanted, it actually did happen.

Detective Matthews was trying not to roll his eyes as the Headmaster continued to whine about "not upsetting the families of the other students." Didn't this idiot realize that if he released the student body to leave, three-fourths of his potential witnesses – or suspects – would vanish to the four corners of the earth? Between the connections and wealth – not to mention sheer geography in some cases – Matthews' chance of talking to the boys again would be gone. And if they were going to find Alan Tracy, he had a bad feeling they needed to do it soon.

When Bean finally stopped talking, the police detective initially breathed a sigh of relief. But then he realized that the headmaster had actually walked away from him. Turning, Matthews examined the group that had just entered the snack shop.

The first man was none other than Jeff Tracy himself. Matthews had been told the billionaire was on his way, but based on past experience with the school, he had assumed a lawyer or some such thing would actually show up. Two other men flanked the ex-astronaut on his right and both looked as if they had been cloned from him. The first one, slightly taller than the second, looked like he ate nails for breakfast and was someone you definitely did not mess with. The second was slighter with a softer set to his worried face.

On the other side were three more men. The one furthest out looked nothing like Tracy but did remind the detective of someone…

When Alan Tracy's roommate jumped up, calling out, "D-Dad," before running to the nerdish looking man, Detective Matthews realized that one would be Professor Hackenbacker, who worked for Jeff Tracy and, according to young Fermat, lived with his son on the Island. Which, he reasoned, would explain why they arrived together.

The other two men Matthews also recognized – kinda. Gordon Tracy, who didn't look much like any of his family, he remembered from the Olympics. The last man looked so much like Alan Tracy that he also had to be a brother. Steeling himself, the detective moved over to the family.

If only to save the simpering headmaster.

* * *

Jeff Tracy had not had a good day. Hell, the last few days had been horrible. The last thing he needed was Headmaster Bean to keep whining about how _"nothing like this had ever happened at Wharton's"._ "Headmaster," he snapped, "I just want to know if there has been any word on my son."

"Not yet, Mr. Tracy," a separate voice said. Jeff looked up to see another man approach his family. The man nodded at the group, holding out his hand. "Detective Nathan Matthews, Massachusetts State Police. I'm the lead for the investigation into your son Alan's disappearance."

"Do you have any idea what happened to my brother?" Scott asked tersely. When Matthews turned towards Scott, he introduced himself and then his brothers. Once the detective had nodded a greeting to each Tracy, he answered the oldest Tracy brother.

"Well, this is what we do know. Alan left his dormitory before eight-thirty last night. Now, while he didn't return, we also know that there were no vehicles that left the campus after eight. So we have to assume that Alan is still somewhere on campus."

Looking over at Fermat, John received a small nod. "Detective, I assume that Fermat showed you Alan's bolt-holes?"

Ignoring the surprised looks from the family, Matthews nodded. "Yes, we checked them. There is no sign Alan has been there in some time."

"N-not since b-before Spring Br-break," Fermat said softly.

"Mr. Tracy, I do want to ask one thing before I go over what has happened so far." Jeff nodded allowing the detective to continue. "Now, at this time, we are keeping this pretty localized. But the FBI is on stand-by if we get any indication that this is a kidnapping."

Jeff went pale at the possibility, John's comforting touch to his arm calming him. "But I thought you said-"

"I said we have no indicators that Alan had been removed from campus, Mr. Tracy," Matthews countered. "Only the main gate is supposed to be accessible after six at night. The officers with me, a combination of Springfield as the closest town and Massachusetts state police, are investigating anyone who had access to the other gates."

"What are the campus security men doing?" Scott asked abruptly.

"Being thoroughly checked out," Matthews said bluntly. "Also, teachers and staff are being questioned. Mr. Tracy," he explained, "your son is a freshman who wasn't even here the entire school year. Yet, according to his roommate, he had two spots he could secure himself without anyone knowing where he was. I had thought that only Fermat was aware of those spots, although it seems I may have been mistaken."

John colored slightly at the looks being directed at him by his family and the officer before shrugging. "First, Detective, let me explain something. I was, well, in a bit of an accident while Alan was home for Spring Break. Alan had been helping me with some equipment and was also injured slightly. It was why he came back a few days late from break."

"That's true," the headmaster broke in before shrinking at the glares he received from the rest of the group.

Having shot an annoyed look at the headmaster for interrupting him, John continued. "Alan spent some time with me in the infirmary-"

"The infirmary at Wharton's?" Matthews asked.

"No, the infirmary on Tracy Island."

The detective was startled. "You have your own infirmary?"

"We have our own island," Virgil said wryly. "And the infirmary surprises you?"

"Anyhow," John said, his annoyance at all the interruptions clear, "Alan and I spent a lot of time talking. And I came up here for his birthday a few weeks ago. While I was here, he showed me his hiding places. He has a couple on the island as well. As I recall, Allie had a few when we lived in Kansas." Smiling slightly when his brothers nodded in agreement, John finished with a small nod.

"When you are one of five kids in the family," Gordon shrugged, "you sometimes need some place that no one will bug you."

"I suppose that was a reason why Alan wanted to come back here," Jeff said absently.

"You didn't want Alan to return to Wharton's?" Matthews asked. "Did you have a reason to be concerned? Did you suspect someone could be a threat to your son?"

"Detective," Jeff answered softly as he sat down heavily after Virgil led to a chair, "I can't think of any reason for anyone to harm Alan. And the only reason I can think of anyone taking Alan is for money. It's no secret that I am a wealthy man. And most people know how important my sons are to me. If this is for ransom…"

Sucking in his breath, Jeff picked up from where he had drifted off. "If someone wants money so that we can get Alan back safely, I'll pay."

"Mr. Tracy," Matthews warned, "you shouldn't be so quick-"

"Detective Matthews," Gordon snapped, "Alan is our brother, our _baby_ brother. We will do whatever it takes to be able to bring him home."

"And then," Scott warned darkly, "heaven have mercy on the person or persons responsible for harming Allie. Because they won't receive any mercy from us."

Looking at the gathered Tracys, Matthews held back a slight shudder. He strongly suspected that whoever was responsible for Alan Tracy's disappearance had best find a deep hole to hide in. It was the only hope they had for survival.

* * *

Alan sat up, pulling himself from the ground. Looking around, he was confused as to what he was doing here. Thinking back, he recalled going for a run, then-

Then Alan recalled pain and lots of it. But he wasn't having any now. So why was he still out here?

"Because you are, kiddo," a soft voice answered his unspoken question.

Alan whipped around, seeing a man sitting on a large rock. Stepping closer, he stared at the man before asking, "Do I know you?"

"Ah, how soon they forget," he chuckled. "Considering I was there for a good chunk of your early years?"

Suddenly smiling, Alan hurried over, hugging the man. "Uncle Jack! It's been forever! What are you doing here?"

"I thought I would wait with you until your dad shows up," Jack Roy reasoned to Alan as the teen sat beside him. When Alan looked away, Jack put an arm around him. "Your dad loves you more than words can ever say, Allie. He'll be here. And that nonsense earlier? You dad was just upset about something else and you were an easy target. He spoke without thinking. Like you may have done on occasion?"

Alan looked away, knowing that his honorary was right. There had been more than one occasion Alan had been guilty of that. Suddenly, Alan caught sight of something…

Jumping up, Alan moved over to a pile of leaves and branches, seeing a hand under it. He reached down to push asides some of the debris, only for his hand to pass right through it. Stumbling back in shock, Alan bumped into Jack.

"Uncle Jack, did you see that? What's up with-"

Jack pulled Alan into a hug. "Alan, you are under that pile. You were hurt last night. So I am gonna wait with you until your family can come save you, OK?"

"Am I dead?" Alan asked hollowly.

"No," Jack said softly. "But you are very badly hurt. And if someone doesn't find you soon, you may not make it." Running a hand over the back of Alan's head, Jack continued to hold the teen before muttering, "C'mon Space-case. Don't let him down again."

* * *

_**A/N – Yes, it will be a while before Alan is found. But at least Alan isn't alone right?**_

_**Alan – And that is supposed to be the good news?**_

_**CC – Alan, I wanted you to have a bit of comfort. Family is important.**_

_**Alan – Then why can't I be on a beach in Maui with family? I'd even take Scott at the moment.**_

_**Scott – And just what is that supposed to mean?**_

_**CC- OK, Alan, first off – where is the trauma and drama of your being on a beach in Hawaii? Although, I did put you on a beach in Hawaii in the first seaQuest/ Thunderbird crossover. But you did get kidnapped before you ever made it back to the hotel. (The Tracys glare at her before she hastily continues.) Besides, you live on a tropical island. How can Hawaii be a vacation spot for you? Maybe you should go skiing…(Another glare.) No, bad idea. Um, I am sure you can think of something. And Scott? You aren't exactly the party animal of the bunch. Not to mention, you still see Alan as a little kid. He'll want to check out girls in bikinis, and you'll want him building sand castles.**_

_**Alan (sighs) – Well, did you have to make it start raining? I'm already badly hurt, alone and now I am getting rained on? You are seriously evil, woman.**_

_**CC (blushes) – Yes, I know. Thanks for noticing.**_

_**Scott – Lady, that is not meant to be a compliment.**_

_**CC – In Fan Fiction, it is.**_

_**Alan – Well, this is the last thing you'll do. (Silence.) CC? You won't make me get hurt again, will you?**_

_**CC – (grins) Probably not in this story. I mean, what more can I do to you in this story? But I can be inspired again in the future. I love writing about families and your family is wonderful – love, humor, compassion and endless opportunities for angst. Then again, Jean did like some ideas as to your medical condition...**_

_**Alan (sighs) – Do you ever let me have some fun?**_

_**Scott – Alan, that isn't the point.**_

_**CC – Sure it is, Scott. I have written you all as having full, wonderful lives. You marry, have children – heck, by the end of my Tracy Family series, John is about to become a grandfather.**_

_**Alan – Yeah, and look at all you did to me in that series. Shot, bomb blasts, comas, fires, abductions…**_

_**CC – But you also became a published author, married, had children-**_

_**Scott (snickers) – Yeah, five. And the youngest was born when your oldest was what? Twenty-three?**_

_**CC – Scott, I could write a story where your wife gets pregnant with triplets.**_

_**Alan (laughing) – Man, you can torture others.**_

_**CC – Yes, yes I can. Oh, and guys – be nice or I will start co-writing with Sam1 again.**_

_**(Both brothers pale as CC grins in triumph) OK boys, sit back and enjoy the ride.**_


	5. Someone you'd give your life in a second

**Left By the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**_Disclaimer - See Chapter One_**

* * *

**_So - Alan is alive - kinda. The Tracys are there - kinda. And the story continues - kinda._**

* * *

**Chapter Five – Someone you'd give your life in a second to save**

"So, Mr. Tracy," Matthews began to speak to the silent man who sat across from him, before pausing and looking around the recreation area. Most of the students had been removed to the gym. No one from the staff or students was still being allowed to leave, but the detective grimly wondered how long. He knew the chief was under a lot of pressure to get the scene cleared. The detective wondered how they would react if it was their child that was missing.

"Detective?" Jeff asked sharply when the man failed to continue. "Do you have anything? Anything at all?"

"We've run background checks on the faculty and staff. Again, I have to ask if there is anyone who would want to hurt Alan?"

Looking over at John, comforting Fermat and quietly talking to Brains, Jeff caught his second-born son's eye and the quick shake of his head confirmed the knowledge that Penny's investigation had turned up no link between International Rescue and Alan's disappearance. Sighing, Jeff returned his attention to the detective.

"Detective Matthews, I am a fairly successful business man. I worked hard to get where I am. I have done my best to be fair and honest in my dealings and have refused to do business with people who do not meet that standard. But…" Jeff trailed off for a moment before sighing deeply.

"I run a multi-billion dollar corporation with branches around the world. My schedule is one of the reasons why Alan is in a boarding school. I need to know Alan is somewhere safe, with someone looking out for him. Also, I wanted Alan to see more than our little island. When he gets older, if he wants, there will be a place for him in Tracy Enterprises, and I designed the compound on the island so that I can build smaller homes for any families my sons want to create on their own." Seeing the police officer's raised eyebrow, Jeff shrugged. "You think I am arrogant, having my family live on an island? It wasn't so bad with the other boys, but by the time Alan came along I wasn't just famous. I was rich and famous. Do you have children?"

Matthews nodded so Jeff continued. "How many of your children's birth was covered on the evening news? Did you choose his pre-school for its big yard? It's student-to-teacher ration? Or was your biggest concern what kind of security measures that they have? Someone tried to snatch Alan when he was fifteen-months-old. Right out of our front yard. Luckily, Scott had come home from school early and stopped the men before they could grab Alan. We had to change our lives. Focus on security. Then my wife died…"

Jeff's voice trailed off. "Alan was hurt. It was an avalanche. Scott and John had some injuries but they were minor. Lucy and Alan were both buried. Scott was the one who found Alan." Tears gathered in the billionaire's eyes. "My baby looked like a broken doll. I had sent John back with Virgil and Gordon to our rental cabin. Scott refused to leave his little brother. I kept looking for Lucy."

"I found her," Jeff said morosely. "By the time we found Luc, she was gone. I threw myself into work. I loved her so much and then she was gone. And as much as I loved my boys, I saw so much of her in them. Lucy is – was – an orphan. But my parents did a lot for my sons, as did Jack."

"Jack?"

Jeff smiled slightly. "One of my oldest friends - Jack Roy. He loved the boys, and especially adored Alan. He moved away a few years after the accident and then I moved the family to our island."

"Would he know anything?"

Shaking his head, Jeff grew sad once more. "No, Jack died recently. I had found out about it just before I spoke with Alan that last time. I was rather abrupt with him and I think Alan thought I was mad at him. That was probably why Alan went running. If I had only-" Jeff sighed. "My mother used to say the saddest words in the English language were "if only". Now I know what she meant."

"Mr. Tracy, you can't blame yourself," Matthews said, trying to make the billionaire feel better.

"How old are your children?" Jeff asked.

"I have three-month-old twin sons," the detective smiled slightly.

"Wait," Jeff sighed. "Any bump, bruise, nightmare or broken heart is something you should be able to prevent or fix in a heartbeat. And you never learn that it is impossible. You want to protect them from everything while teaching them to stand on their own two feet. There will be times they tell you they hate you and you still have to remember who is supposed to be the adult and no matter what, you have to do what is best for them."

"Mr. Tracy, with all due respect if anyone had described it to me that way before we had our boys, I don't think Macy and I would have had kids."

Smiling slightly, Jeff nodded. "I don't think anyone would. But, I can assure you detective; there are times it is all worth it." Jeff pulled out the picture he took of all five boys during Spring Break. "Luc and I always thought our boys were worth anything."

* * *

"Mr. Moneybags really sounds like he loves the brat, doesn't he?"

Paul looked up from the inventory he had been doing for the snack shop. He had been so focused on his work that he hadn't even noticed Barry enter.

"Barry? What are you doing here? Anyone not involved is supposed to be in the gym."

"Well," Barry drawled, "technically we-"

"Don't even think of finishing that sentence, Barry," Paul snapped.

Barry shrugged. "Fine. Whatever. But hearing Mr. Big-shot talking gave me an idea."

Paul tried to focus on the task at hand but found his classmate too big a distraction. "His name is Mr. Tracy. Why can't you use it?"

"OK, Mr. Tracy. But like I was saying, it sounds like he really loves the kid, doesn't he?"

Now it was Paul's time to shrug. He really didn't want to think about it as the guilt became too overwhelming. "Yeah, well, Alan is his son. He strikes me as a man who would love all his children. And that article in People included a picture of his wife. Alan looks just like her. Even more than his brother, John."

"Which one is that?" Barry asked, peaking through a small window in the storage area.

Paul rolled his eyes as he marked something on the paper in front of him. "That would be the only blonde out there. You know - the one who looks a lot like Alan?"

Grimacing, Barry turned from the window. "Smartass. But seriously, we could really be taking advantage of this."

"Barry, what the hell are you talking about?"

"The police think this could be a kidnapping. We send a ransom demand, get the money and then when they find the kid, they blame the kidnappers."

Paul turned and stared at his so-called friend, his dark eyes wide. "That is sick, Barry!" He whispered harshly. "First, we would never get away with it. They would catch us. Second, to take advantage of such an awful situation – like I said, that is sick."

Peaking out the window himself, Paul straightened a bit. "In fact, I am going to tell them the truth. Maybe there's a chance Alan is still alive. And if he's not, at least the Tracys will know what happened to Alan."

Paul had only taken one step when he felt the sudden pain in the back of his head and then darkness claimed him.

Barry dropped the can of fruit back onto the shelf, grabbing Paul before he could hit the floor. "Sorry, man, can't let you do that. I'm not sacrificing my future so they can find a dead kid faster." Looking around, his eyes lit up when he saw the walk-in freezer at the back of the storage area.

Dragging Paul's unconscious body to the back of the room, Barry managed to get the door open and dropped his friend into the icy space. Dropping the lock pin back into place, Barry left Paul, as unconcerned about his so-called friend as he had been about Alan.

* * *

Alan sat on the rock, listening to Jack rattle on again about some prank he had pulled on Jeff when they were younger – and Jeff's eventual payback. The youngest Tracy had developed a sneaking suspicion where Gordy had gotten his devious streak from and it sure as hell was not through any maternal genes.

"Uncle Jack," Alan blurted out, "can I ask you something?"

Jack paused, looking over at the teen. "Sure thing, kiddo. I always told all of you boys, you can ask me anything." Blushing slightly, he muttered, "That was how I got conned into explaining the birds and bees to Johnny."

"Did my parents want me?"

Shocked to his core, Jack stared at Alan for a moment. "Wh-what? Of course you were wanted, Alan. What on earth ever made you think you weren't?"

Alan sighed. "I can't remember Mom at all. Oh, a scent, a touch, maybe the sound of a voice…But I am not sure how much is memories and what is someone talking about her." Looking seriously up at his honorary uncle, he continued. "But, there is more than five years between me and Gordon. There is eighteen months between Scott and John, two and a half years between John and Virgil, and just less than two years between Virgil and Gordo. Five years? That doesn't exactly scream planned pregnancy."

Putting an arm around Alan, Jack sighed. "Oh, kiddo – there is a huge difference between unplanned and unwanted when it comes to babies. No, you weren't planned. In fact, Lucy referred to you as her "little surprise". You know what the difference between a surprise and a mistake is?" When Alan shook his head, Jack continued with a grin. "A mistake you regret and would undo if you could. A surprise is something you didn't know you wanted until you got it. And that is exactly what you were to your whole family. A wonderful surprise that they all adored from day one."

Chuckling slightly, Jack rubbed the top of Alan's head with the knuckles of his free hand. "Except maybe Gordon. His first reaction was to try and trade you for a puppy. But once it was pointed out to him that one, your mom was allergic to dogs and two, that he would no longer be the baby, even Little Red came around."

Then Jack became serious. "And kiddo, when your mom died, you became what kept everyone going. Even me. We had to hold it together for our baby, so we did." Smiling again, he asked, "Why haven't you asked your dad this?"

Alan shrugged. "I guess…" His voice trailed off and then he tried again. "I guess I was afraid of the answer. Sometimes I feel like it is way too easy for them to forget about me."

"Oh, Sprout, they never, and especially not your dad, forget about you. They love you very much. Your father and brothers just want you to have every opportunity. And if your mom had her way, she would have never left her boys. Lucy loved you all so much."

"And you loved her," Alan said calmly. When Jack looked at him in surprise, Alan shrugged. "Dad doesn't talk about Mom often. But when he does, he gets the same look in his eyes that you do."

Jack smiled. "And they say John is the smart one. Yes, I loved Lucy. No, I never told her and I don't think she knew. But your dad knew. He also knew that I loved him as the brother I never had and that seeing the two people I loved most happy was what made me happy. I think I got drunk enough to once tell him that if he ever hurt Lucy I would snatch her away, but that was as close as I ever came to admitting it out loud."

"Is that why you were there for us after Mom died? And why you are here now?"

Shaking his head, Jack hugged Alan some more. "No, kiddo. I was there because since I met him, Jeff Tracy's family was mine. So I was there for my family. And I am here now for a kid I have loved since he first drew breath." Leaning back, Jack looked down at Alan. "And I promise you, like your mom, I will be there as long as you need me."

Hugging Alan once more, Jack looked up at the sky and watched the clouds once more gather with the promise of coming rain. And again, he prayed that the Thunderbirds were coming to the rescue.

* * *

_**A/N - Someone said in a review that this was loosely based on a book/movie called "The Invisibles". Um, nope. Never heard of it. But remember "Standing..." in my Tracy Family series? Alan was in a coma and talked to some people, and I wanted him to have someone to talk to then. It's not like it is a new idea. It's been used before and by much more talented story tellers than yours truly. **_

**_But it's a good one. So, the only movie this is loosely based on is the 2004 film "Thunderbirds"._**

**_And I have decided to let their characters - ie, probably Scott and Alan - have their say in even numbered chapters. You guys seem to like them and they do lighten the moments._**

**_Origionally, this was going to be a 6 or 7 chapter story. As I am working on chapter nine - well, let's just say I am drawing the family into more agnst then I had origionally intended. I blame sammygirl1963 for encouraging me. And with Little Miss Bump too busy to reign me in - let's just say, things will get MUCH worse before they get better. Hope you stay with me for the whole ride, 'cause it will be a bumpy one. - INSERT EVIL LAUGH HERE -_**

**_Laters, CC_**


	6. You Just Can't Save Everyone

**Left By The Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**_Disclaimer - see chapter one_**

* * *

**_Over one hundred reviews already! Yeah! Wow - you guys really like all this agnst and anguish don't you?_**

**Chapter Six – You Just Can't Save Everyone**

John Tracy looked over at his father. Jeff had been talking to the lead detective since they had arrived, hardly even acknowledging his other sons. The astronomer knew that his father blamed himself for Alan's disappearance and was afraid that his other sons felt the same way. Shaking his head, John gave a small sigh, knowing that there was nothing he could say to change how Jeff felt. Hopefully, the man would realize how foolish his guilt was soon. No one, and certainly not his own sons, blamed Jeff Tracy for Alan's disappearance.

Looking over at his only older brother, John realized that it might not be true. While the middle sons did not hold Jeff responsible for whatever had happened to Alan, John suspected that Scott just might. The relationship between the youngest and oldest Tracy sons had always been more of a parent/child than brotherly bond. And it was a common fact that relationships, such as marriages, would not survive the death of a child, especially if guilt was involved. If they did not find Alan alive, John was afraid what this would do to their entire family, but especially to the once close relationship of Jeff and Scott.

John also couldn't help but wonder about the attention Detective Matthews was paying to his father. In the death or disappearance of a child, the parents were often the first suspects. Did Matthews think his father had anything to do with this?

Shaking off his negative emotions, John approached the table where Jeff and the police detective had been sitting. "Detective Matthews," he began, "you may need our father here, but surely my brothers and I can join in the search. With four more people, we can cover that much more ground."

Looking at the four young men gathered in front of him, Matthews nodded. "OK, um-"

"John," the younger man supplied.

"Right, John. OK, Deputy McGlauflin is outside. Tell Dave to give you a map of where to go. They've divvied up the school ground into quadrants and each quadrant has a search zone. School security gave it an initial search before we got here but we are being a lot more thorough. Stay within your zones and keep in radio contact at all times."

The four Tracy brothers walked out, relieved to be doing something. Scott left last, pausing as Jeff called out to him.

"Scott."

Scott turned and looked at his father dispassionately. But he was honestly surprised at what came next.

"You can't blame me any more than I blame myself. I know how much you love Alan. You've adored that kid since the day he was born. Your first word was Dada. His was Scott. If we find him -"

"When," Scott interrupted.

Jeff smiled sadly. "OK, Scooter – when we find Alan, I promise, I will make this right."

"You better," was all Scott said before trooping out after his brothers.

* * *

Alan looked up at the sky, seeing the state police helicopter flying overhead, barely visable through the thick tree coverage. He sighed, feeling more than seeing Jack's attention on him. Shrugging, Alan glanced over at the old family friend.

"This isn't one of my usual running paths. If I don't use the track, I use the jogging trail that cuts through the woods. But -" Alan's voice trailed off for a moment before he started again.

"It reminds me of this path John and I went on just before I headed back here. When he came up on my birthday, I showed it to him." Sighing once more, Alan softly continued. "John is a great listener. You can tell him anything and he is non-judgmental. I wish sometimes that I had known how much I could talk to him. Maybe if I had been able to go over things with him first, Dad and I wouldn't have fought so much."

"Oh," Jack drawled. "I don't know about that, kiddo. Jefferson Grant Tracy is a stubborn bastard when he wants to be. I remember slamming his head into a locker trying to get him to listen to me once."

"You head-butted Dad into a locker?" Alan asked, wide-eyed.

"Yep," Jack grinned. "Had to pay NASA for the damage to the locker. But Jeff was fine. Hard-headed farm boy. He didn't even need a single stitch but they had to replace the locker door."

Alan chuckled at the image. "What were you and Dad arguing about?"

"Not much of an argument, kiddo. Space-case said something pretty stupid so I threw him head first into a locker. Knocked some sense into him." Jack just smiled, deciding that Alan didn't need to know about how badly his father had freaked at finding out that his fiancée – fiancée, not wife – was expecting their first child. He was pretty sure that Lucy had never known but it wouldn't have mattered. The couple had loved each other desperately and when Lucy told Jeff she was pregnant, the young man had simply agreed that it was nothing but a jump start.

He saved his terrified ranting for Jack, who put an end to it by tossing his friend head-first into the locker. Well, whatever worked, right?

Alan was about to question Jack further when he suddenly doubled over in pain. "Ow," he whimpered. "Damn it, Jack, why am I in pain if I'm almost dead?"

"Stress the almost, Alan," Jack said soothingly, rubbing the teen's back gently. "Your body is fighting to live. I guess you made up your mind what you want."

Smiling wasn't easy as another wave of pain swept over Alan, but he tried. "Yeah, I guess I did. Dad can be a frustrating, annoying, and an over-all pain in the ass, but I had to get something from his side of the family, didn't I?"

Jack laughed. Damn, but Alan really did have plenty of both his parents in him. But that sense of humor was all Lucy. Looking into the Tracy baby's blue eyes, Jack smiled. Seeing Lucy's azure eyes gaze back at him, Jack hugged Alan again, praying for someone to come their way.

* * *

John Tracy swung his gaze to the side of the pathway, looking over at the dirt road to his right. Deputy Dave McGlauflin walked beside him. The Tracy Brothers had tried not to be too insulted that they were each paired with a law enforcement officer. If John had not suspected already that his family was under suspicion for Alan's disappearance, it was now clear. Statistically, he knew that it made sense. Often, in the case of a crime against a child, it was someone they knew, usually someone close to them.

One thing that several people – from the headmaster to Fermat and finally, Jeff – had mentioned was that Alan would never leave willingly with someone he didn't know well and that even if he left with someone he did know, he would tell someone. It had been drummed into Alan at the same time as his ABCs. Alan was not aware of just how many security procedures had been put in place over the years, but he was conscious of what was expected of him for self-protection.

And Jeff could say that he and his other four sons had been on Tracy Island the entire time. But a good prosecutor could claim that the Tracys defending each other was too pat, that Jeff could have flown to the states or even been there already, that while the planes were traceable, it would be hard to prove exactly who was on the planes. People often had no problem believing the worst about the rich. Jeff had raised his sons to be honest, responsible members of society. But the fact that they lived on a private tropical island and worked for Jeff, answerable only to their father, surely gave the image of the jet-set playboys that were a far cry from the sort of men the Tracys truly were.

John had to admit it could look bad if you didn't know the family. Anyone who knew the Tracys knew how much they loved each other, that there was nothing they wouldn't do for family. But there was the problem. The Tracys were fiercely private people. And in this case, that could be bad.

"Mr. Tracy?"

Turning, John realized that the deputy was talking to him. "Sorry, Deputy McGlauflin, when I hear Mr. Tracy, I start looking for my dad. Look, my name is John, OK?"

The deputy nodded, saying, "And my name is Dave, OK? Look, you said that you visited your brother recently. Did he take you anywhere on campus, say or do anything that would give us some insight?"

Still staring at the dirt thoroughfare, even as the rain began to lightly fall once more, John gestured towards the road. "Is that the service road from the South Gate?"

Checking his notes, Dave nodded. "Yes. But it's locked after five PM on weekdays."

John looked pensive. "Yeah, and I think that is why Alan used it for running on weekends."

Eyes wide, the deputy nodded again. "And you think that he might have used it after hours during the week as well?"

"It's a possibility," John acknowledged. "And if it's an area that hasn't been widely examined by searchers -"

"So let's go," the deputy broke in, hope at a new possibility making his voice brighter.

After Dave reported to the dispatcher the new search area the pair began to walk down the road and the rain began to thicken the road surface to mud. Seeing the runoff mixing with the debris, John almost hoped Alan wasn't in the area because if his brother was hurt, the weather could make the situation all the more desperate.

* * *

Jeff had once more fallen silent, but Detective Matthews had grown rather used to it. The police man knew what his training – hell, what his years on the force had shown him. That in the case of crimes against children (and sadly he suspected that this was a crime with Alan Tracy as the victim) that the most likely suspect was often a family member, especially the parents. Lucy Keith Tracy had died more than a decade ago but what kind of father was Jefferson Tracy? The man seemed honestly frightened and anxious for a son he loved very much.

But Matthews never forgot one of his first cases where a six year old girl went missing. Her decomposing body was found two weeks later, and he had the bitter task of arresting the "grieving" mother, who had killed the girl in a drunken rage, dumping the body when she sobered up and claimed that she had not seen her daughter since the little girl had left for school. Even as she posed for the six o'clock news, begging for her daughter's safe return, she had been more than aware that the child was stuffed in an old well on an elderly neighbor's property.

Matthews was about to ask another question when the door suddenly opened. Both men turned to see a thirty something man enter the room.

"Sorry, um, I'm Dash, the, um, manager here. Well, sorta. Mr. Baraka is usually the manager, but he fell and broke his tail bone, and so they cut me free from the cafeteria and I am a marketing major. Well, in night school. Anyhow, I left the work-study kid, Paul, to finish the year-end inventory. I just need to get some notes from him."

Detective Matthews almost laughed at the stumbling man, amazed that Dash had gotten it all out in one breath. "Paul? Was that the lean Asian kid?"

Dash looked confused. "Nah, Paul is from California."

Jeff bit back a smile. The substitute manager was either racially color-blind or none too bright. The first he respected and wanted it in his employees. The second he avoided whenever possible, although he encountered it more than he would like.

"Anyhow, I just need to go back here…" The man disappeared into the back, talking more to himself than to anyone actually there.

Jeff and Matthews had turned back to their table, with the detective about to ask another question when Dash suddenly raced back into the room. "Hey, Paul isn't there! Do you know where he went?"

Curious, the two men stood up and joined Dash behind the counter. Suddenly, something on the floor caught Matthews's attention.

"What's this?" he asked, even as he bent over to pick up the items in question.

Dash looked and shrugged. "It's the inventory. What about it?"

Jeff examined the papers. They were very neat and precisely detailed. Why would someone so organized and detailed just drop the papers on the floor? Before he could express that thought, his ears, finely tuned from years of raising five sons, Jeff caught the sound of something between a tap and a scratch. Turning towards the noise, the billionaire motioned to the steel door.

"What's that?" he asked Dash.

The provisional manager moved towards the metal door, yanked out the pin as he opened it and was talking even as it was pulled forward. "Just the freez – oh, shit! Paul!"

Moving quickly, the three men bent down and began to examine the injured senior. Even as Jeff's fingers ghosted over the welt on the back of the student's head, Paul's eyes fluttered open and focused on Jeff. Reaching up, he grabbed Jeff's shirt.

"M-Mr. Tracy. A-Alan. Was out run-running. S-Service road, b-back g-gate. We were drinking. Sorry. S-so sorry. Let B-Barry t-talk me into l-leaving Alan. Car. Didn't mean t-to hit him."

Jeff stood up, in shock. "Are you saying that you were drunk, you ran into my son and left him?"

Tears welled up in Paul's eyes. "S-so sorry." Pain caused the younger man's eyes to close once more.

Fury swelled over Jeff, ready to tear apart these fools who hurt his son – his _baby _– and left him to die. "If my son is dead, you will know what sorry is," Jeff said coldly. He was about to say something more when Detective Matthews placed a hand on Jeff's arm.

"Mr. Tracy, I've called for an ambulance and we'll have an officer ride in with him and we'll get his statement at the hospital. And I'll have dispatch refocus the search to the area to the service road near the south gate," Matthews explained. Pulling at the Tracy father's arm, he made sure the man was reseated in the dining area before coming to stand in the doorway. The anger radiating off of Jeff Tracy was something that few people had ever seen.

But laying on the floor of the stock room, tears leaked beneath Paul Han's eyelids. _I deserve this. My life is over and my family will be devastated. But if there is a God, please – let Alan be alive. Don't let another family be destroyed._

* * *

**_A/N - Yeah! Alan is about to be found. Or is he?_**

**_Alan - Oh, come on, lady! Just let me get found. _**

**_CC - Alan, I told you - I don't do death fics._**

**_Scott - No, just near death fics._**

**_CC - Please stress the near part, will you, Scott._**

**_Alan - You know, this could be consdered child abuse._**

**_CC - Nah. You are a fictonal character. We can do anything we want with you. In fact, you should see what happens to you in some stories._**

**_Scott - Well, nothing permanent, right? (CC remains silent) CC, nothing permanent, right?_**

**_CC - Um, not in my stories. But in some stories, yeah. And for your own mental well being, Alan - don't read any of the rated M stories. What they do to you in those stories ain't pretty. It's usually not too bad in the movie fics. Most of us remember you are still a kid in those ones. But in the stories based on the TV shows, you are an adult._**

**_Alan - So, it's better, right? Full-time rescuer and maybe some grown-up time with Tin? (He grins)_**

**_Scott - Alan!_**

**_CC - Alan, do me a favor - NEVER read Phoenix Rising. (The brothers look at each other, nervous.) Mind you, it's an awesome story, but what happens to you - like I said, it ain't pretty._**

**_Alan - Scott, can I change my mind on the home schooling?_**

**_CC - Too late, Alan!_**

**_Scott (sighs) - Alan, just hold on. CC has a rep for everything working out in the end. But..._**

**_CC - Yes, Scott?_**

**_Scott - Barry the Bas...Um, well, Barry. Can we do anything to him?_**

**_CC - Oh, don't worry. I have plans for Barry-Baby. (Evil grin.)_**

**_Alan - Lady, you are very scary._**

**_CC - Thanks. I would change my pen name to The Evil Dark Goddess, but I think that name was taken by a Harry Potter fan fic writer. Speaking of which, be glad you are not a character in that genre. They are big on male pregnancy over there. (Both brothers look appalled.) See boys, you have it easy with us. So strap yourself in. The ride will continue soon._**


	7. What Was Mom Like?

**Left By the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

* * *

**_Disclaimer - See Chapter One_**

**_Tracy agnst and anguish - ain't it grand? _**

**Chapter Seven – What Was Mom Like?**

John Tracy blinked before wiping a hand across his eyes. The wind and rain were increasing with every passing moment. He began to pray again, feeling as if he really hadn't stopped since the call about Alan had first come in.

_Please, Mom – God – anyone who is listening. Let Alan be OK. We need our baby. And the not knowing is the worst._

Was this how his family had felt, racing to the crippled Thunderbird Five after the attack by the Hood's missile? Wondering if John were even still alive? But at least his father and brothers had known where John was. They had been denied even that small comfort on this day.

"Mr. Tracy – um, John?"

John turned to Dave McGlauflin, wiping at his eyes again. "Yeah?"

"Did you hear the radio?" At John's blank stare, the deputy continued. "At least half the searchers, including all of your brothers, are heading our way. It seems like this was a good guess. One of the seniors just confessed that he and a classmate were driving drunk on this road and hit Alan."

John went pale in shock and horror. "And – and Alan?"

Shaking his head, McGlauflin looked worried. "He said they didn't even check to see if Alan was alive."

Raising his chin, John drew in his breath and nodded. "Fine. Let's start looking on the side of the road. And focus on the left side of the road."

The deputy's worried look changed to confused. "But if they hit Alan -and in most hit and run cases, that would be from behind – shouldn't that be on the right side?"

"No," John ground out. "Alan knew better than that. If he ran on anything besides a track, he would run on the opposite side of the road. Focus on the left side of the road," he repeated.

The two men began their search, as John began to hope that the "Tracy sense" that had always been there for the brothers, could help them once more.

_We're coming, Allie. Just hold on, Sprout. Please – just hold on._

* * *

Alan felt a pull, one that he couldn't explain. Turning to Jack Roy, he found the old family friend looking, well – _fuzzy_.

"Uncle Jack? What's up?" Tilting his head, Alan noted that his own voice sounded odd, with a tin-like quality.

Jack smiled at the boy he had loved from the first breath Alan had drawn to beyond Jack's own last breath. "Your family is close. And it's time for me to go." At the panicked look on Alan's face, Jack chuckled softly. "They'll find you soon. They love you too much not to."

As he faded away, Jack's voice came in strongly. "And I love you, too, kiddo. Remember that – always."

Tears streamed down Alan's face as he whispered, "I will, Uncle Jack. I will." Before Alan could say anything else, pain erupted throughout his body and the world went dark….

* * *

Jeff Tracy stood at the window, watching as the rain began to stream down the glass. "Hope it doesn't thunder," he muttered.

"Why not?" Detective Matthews asked from behind him. When Jeff turned for a moment, the police officer gestured absently. "Han is headed for the hospital. Records are being pulled to see if we can ID this "Barry" for questioning. Unfortunately, Paul Han lost unconsciousness again and we didn't get anymore from him. Now, I repeat – why no thunderstorms?"

"Alan doesn't like them," Jeff said simply. "They've always bothered him. Fermat once told his father that Alan would put in his ear-buds and play his i-Pod to try and ignore the storm when he is away from home."

"And when he's at home?"

Jeff smiled slightly. "We take care of each other. When a thunderstorm is due, we make sure Alan isn't alone."

Nathan Matthews didn't know what to say to that. But the next thing the billionaire said really took him by surprise.

"So am I still a suspect?" Jeff's jaw tightened and he seemed like he didn't even notice the shock on the detective's face. "Please, I admitted that I spoke harshly to Alan prior to his disappearance, that we have had a history of arguing and it is no huge secret that I can have a bit of a temper." Jeff shrugged. "Alan had to get something from me."

Now it was Matthews turn to shrug. "Well, not so much no longer a suspect as it seems the investigation is heading in another direction."

Nodding, Jeff's eyes remained on the rain beyond the window. "I imagine," he mused impassively, "you have seen other parents of missing or, um, hurt kids, ones who turn out to be the reason why something may have happened to the child."

Matthews looked out at the rain as well. "Yeah. More often than I would like to recall."

"I love my son, Detective. I love all five of my boys. I call them my true treasures. Not many have heard that, but a few have. My sons are what make my life worth living. Money, success, accolades, it is all nothing without my boys. And Alan is my baby, the last gift Lucy gave me. He looks so much like her." Tears welled into the man's eyes. "Alan asked me a while back a simple question. He said, "_What was mom like?"_ I just smiled at him and said, _"She was a lot like you."_ I never said anything more."

Jeff sighed. "I would give anything to have that moment again. I would tell Alan how he doesn't just look like his mother. I would tell him how he has her strength, her compassion, her humor and determination. I would tell him how I thank God every day that I was blessed to have him in my life."

The detective looked worried. The Tracy father sounded like he had given up, as if he had accepted his son as already gone. Matthews had always stressed to people to never give up hope in these situations. From the sound of his voice, Jeff Tracy had accepted that Alan was dead. And from the way the entire family had been, Nathan had to wonder if they could survive it.

* * *

Scott Tracy ran down the road, nearly slipping in the mud. Virgil and Gordon were not far behind him, but all three had left their law enforcement "shadows" in the dust.

Well, if there had been any dust. All there seemed to be was mud. Scott heard one of his brothers – he suspected it was Gordon – begin to slip but since he never heard an impact sound, Scott assumed the younger Tracy had either caught himself or been aided by the other brother.

"I never realized," Gordon muttered to Virgil as his brother released the arm that had steadied him, "that Wharton's was so big."

"The better to secure, I suppose," Virgil mused.

Scott had been prepared to say something when he saw John ahead of them. "John," he called out, "any sign yet?"

John shook his head and kept moving along, even as Deputy McGlauflin moved back towards the three brothers.

"John said he is sure if Alan was left by the wayside, it should be on the left shoulder, not the right."

Virgil nodded. "It was how we were taught to go for runs on any roads. But just to be safe, Gordon and I will take the right. Scott -"

Scott had already moved over to the left side of the road, slightly further into the wooded side than John. He was about to ask his brother were exactly they had searched when John suddenly made an exclamation.

John's eyes had gone wide as among the faded browns of the dead leaves and branches that littered the roadside and the verdant green plant life that was in full – if soggy – bloom, he caught sight of a flash of electric blue. The vibrant blue had been something that had attracted him to a pair of track shoes when he and Alan had gone out the weekend of Alan's birthday a few weeks earlier. The memory of that moment flashed in John's mind even as he began to move towards the mound of natural debris.

"_Hey, Sprout, what do think of these? You will need some good track shoes when you make the team."_

_Alan picked up the shoes and smiled. "Try-outs aren't until next week, Johnny. What makes you so sure I will make it? Besides, these shoes are kinda pricey. And don't call me Sprout."_

_John laughed. "Alan, since you were a baby, you have accomplished anything you set your mind to. If you really want a place on the track team, I have no doubt you will make it. As for the price, I think you're worth it."_

_Blue eyes met blue eyes, one set filled will self-doubt while the others shined with unquestioning love and support._

_Giving his youngest brother a one-armed hug, John leaned his chin on top of Alan's head- which he wouldn't be able to do much longer – and murmured, "I believe in you, Allie. And with the way you are growing, Sprout still fits."_

_Both brothers chuckled as Alan ducked his head and grinned at John. _

_But they still bought the track shoes._

The memory faded as John reached the pile of debris, stumbling in the wet leaves and knocking some away from the patch of blue. As a track shoe was revealed, John cried out before frantically pulling at the fallen foliage and broken branches.

Scott had raised his head when John had raced forward and instinctively began to follow. Virgil and Gordon had noticed both of their brothers' movements and trailed after the pair. The two younger Tracys reached their brothers just as Scott pushed aside the debris covering Alan's face.

* * *

Fermat Hackenbacker sat next to his father while Brains remained focused on a report he was preparing for – Fermat checked it quickly – Tracy Enterprises. So much of the elder Hackenbacker's work went for International Rescue but the man also had done some incredible work for his recognized job as well. Fermat sighed lightly before leaning his head against his father's arm.

Brains looked down at his only child before adjusting his arm so that it now rested on Fermat's shoulders. The boy had only turned fourteen this past March and was, in many ways, still a boy. Even though Mr. Tracy had made Fermat a Thunderbird at the same time as Alan, the younger Hackenbacker preferred to work from the base, like command and control or improvements to the vehicles. Although he suspected Fermat would be thrilled to accompany his father to Thunderbird Five for the upgrades and repairs planned for the summer.

Thinking of Thunderbird Five, Brains couldn't help but recall a conversation he had with John when the second Tracy son had returned from visiting Alan.

"_Hey, Brains," John grinned as he entered the lab._

"_J-John," Brains looked up from his work, smiling at the astronomer sat down by the work bench. "H-how w-was your tr-trip?"_

"_Great!" John sighed as he leaned back. "Fermat said to say hi. And that he would call later, he's just busy with that mixed grade engineering class."_

"_A-Alan have a g-good b-birthday?"_

"_I tried," John shrugged. "He seemed happy. Did the whole official tour of Wharton's, then Alan showed me all the places he liked. We went to Boston, headed to the Museum of Science and had dinner. I never knew the kid was so fascinated with the stars. I think we'll have another astronaut there. We walked around the city, did a bit of site seeing and shopping. I bought him some new track shoes as a birthday present. Alan hemmed and hawed, but I could tell he loved them."_

_Brains smiled. "D-did he l-like the upgraded mp3?"_

"_Yes," John smiled again. "He said to say thanks and that he would be sending an e-mail later." The smile faded quickly. "It doesn't take much to make Alan happy, does it?"_

_Shaking his head, Brains bluntly said, "N-no. It t-takes v-very little t-to m-make Alan h-happy. J-just a b-bit of a-attention."_

"_It's going to be different," John swore. "We are never going to let Alan drift that far from us again."_

"_S-see th-that you d-don't," Brains responded. He had worked for Jeff Tracy since Fermat was six months old. A single parent, he had been grateful when he could leave his son to play with the youngest Tracy son. Brains loved Alan as if he was his own but it had been the Tracys love and approval that the teen had longed for. Now that Alan had that, he knew it would break the boy's heart if he were to lose it. _

Seeing Jeff Tracy staring out the window, watching the rain stream across the glass, lost in thought, the elder Hackenbacker felt sorry for his boss and friend. He knew if anything happened to Fermat, he would be lost. Mr. Tracy loved all five of his sons, but Alan was his baby, the one the whole family was protective of. Brains hadn't been in London when the Hood had tried to kill the youngest Tracy but he knew how much the events in the Bank of London still haunted Jeff Tracy. If they lost Alan, Brains was afraid they would lose his father as well.

When a police officer ran up to lead detective, Brains began to stand, praying for some news. A hurried whispered conversation drew Fermat's attention as well as he stood next to his father. The detective moved over to Jeff Tracy and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Mr. Tracy," Detective Matthews began, hesitantly. When Jeff turned, he continued. "Alan has been found."

* * *

_**A/N - OK, we have found Alan - but in what condition? **_

**_So...REVIEW. LOVE? HATE? TOSS THE WHOLE THING? I NEED EMOTIONAL STIMULI!!!_**

**_Is that whiny enough? Cheese is available for the whine...Snicker. Keep warm, keep happy...CC_**


	8. She Was a Lot Like You

**Left by the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**_Disclaimer - See Chapter One_**

* * *

**_OK, found him. So it will be all better, right?_**

**_Hah. You make me laugh._**

**Chapter Eight – She was a lot like you**

Jeff Tracy was speechless for a moment. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Hackenbackers stand, a hopeful look on their faces. But as he stared at the stoic expression of Detective Matthews, Jeff spoke carefully to the investigator.

"You – You found my son?" The detective nodded as the father swallowed and asked his more fearful question.

"Is Alan alive?"

* * *

Scott Tracy froze. Even though he had been praying that they would find Alan, a bigger part of the prayer had been for them to find Alan _alive._ Somewhere in the back of his mind, Scott was aware of his brothers pulling the leaves and branches away from Alan's body yet all he could do was lightly touch their baby brother's face. Scott flinched at how cold and still the flesh was, even as he dully took note of the bluish tinge to Alan's lips. Even while his mind willed Scott to let his fingers move down to the teenager's neck to check for a pulse, the oldest Tracy son's heart wouldn't let his hands shift away from Alan's face. It was his heart that didn't want to know if they had lost Alan forever.

_In a flash, Scott remembered the day they had lost their mother. Scott had been about Alan's age now and he could still remember digging through the snow with his gloved hands, ignoring the adults who tried to send him back to the cabin. He knew that John would watch out for Virgil and Gordon, and that his father wouldn't rest until Lucy Tracy was found. It was Scott's duty to find his baby brother. _

_It was when many had begun to lose hope that Scott saw a flash of red. Digging harder, he spotted the red race car mittens that he had bought for Alan. Frantic, Scott moved through the packed snow as if it were mist, finally reaching his baby brother. Even as the medics moved in to secure the three-year-old to a back board and placed an oxygen mask over his tiny face, Scott refused to leave the toddler's side. The teenager accompanied Alan to the hospital and gave hell to the staff until they let him stay with his brother. _

_Jeff Tracy hadn't arrived at the hospital until close to midnight. Scott knew the moment he saw his father's face that his mother was gone. He swore to his mother that he would watch over the family's baby in her place, that he would keep Alan safe._

Scott was so caught up in the past that he never even realized that the middle Tracy brothers had finished clearing the debris from Alan. Since the teenager was wearing gym shorts at the time of the accident, it was easy for Virgil – the best field medic on the team – to check Alan's femoral pulse. It was at that moment the middle Tracy son said the words they all had been praying for:

"He's alive."

* * *

Deputy Dave McGlauflin watched as the Tracy brothers gathered around their fallen family member, their gentle touches as they examined the boy showing their love with each gesture or movement. He tried to tell himself that it was only the rain that was obscuring his vision when he heard one of the brothers – he thought that one was Virgil – say that Alan was alive.

McGlauflin jumped when he felt a hand land on his shoulders. "Mike," he breathed out. "Do you mind not scaring the hell out of me?"

State Trooper Mike Brown shrugged. "Sorry man," he grinned, not sounding at all apologetic. "Is the kid alive?" When McGlauflin nodded, the grin on the trooper only widened.

"Fantastic! Can he be carried out of here?"

Hearing the comment, Gordon Tracy came out of the slight ditch and approached the officers, while several more members of the local law enforcement agencies began to join them. Shaking his head, Gordon gestured towards his brothers.

"Alan has internal bleeding, at least two cracked or broken ribs, a broken left ankle, a dislocated right shoulder and possible spinal injury. Not to mention mild hypothermia and he is heading into shock. He needs to get to a hospital and fast. When can a medivac chopper get here?" Seeing the surprised expressions on the cops, Gordon gave a small smile. "Hey, we live on an island. Dad made sure we all had basic medic training."

Trooper Brown surveyed the area. "Most ambulances would get stuck in this mud and the trees are too close for a chopper to land. Our best bet is to get a four wheel vehicle in here and transport the kid to the Quad near the dormitories. There is a good patch there for a helicopter to land."

Once everyone was in agreement of how to proceed, a truck was commandeered to transport the injured Alan and his brothers back to the main campus. Watching the gentle care and devotion the four young men showed their baby brother had the law enforcement officers swearing later it had only been the rain running down their faces.

* * *

The moment of silence before Detective Matthews spoke was one of the longest of Jeff Tracy's life. In that moment, the life of his youngest flashed in front of him. Jeff could see the tiny baby who clutched his finger, the toddler who went from crawling to running to get everywhere as fast as he could. Then came the broken child, his heart as devastated as his body by the accident that had claimed his mother. As Alan had recovered, it seemed all of the family began to live again, as if the little boy was their reason for living. The little boy was replaced by an older child who seemed to become angrier and more withdrawn as he grew in size. It wasn't until Jeff and his older sons had been trapped on Thunderbird Five, courtesy of the Hood's insane revenge, that the reasons for Alan's anger had become clearer.

Alan wasn't angry. He was scared - scared of being forgotten, scared of being unimportant to the Tracys, scared of losing his world – his family. Once Jeff and his older sons understood that, they began making sure that Alan knew he was loved and missed when he wasn't with them, and they began to see signs of the happy little boy their baby had once been.

Now Jeff was the one who was scared. Scared that he had lost his baby when Alan was back to thinking he wasn't important to his family – to his father.

"He's alive, Mr. Tracy," Matthews said. Seeing that Jeff was still in shock, the man continued. "Alan has been hurt but he is alive. Your other sons are with him. Now, according to an officer on the scene, your sons said that they are all qualified as medics."

When Jeff didn't say anything, Brains stepped forward, speaking softly. "Y-yes, th-that's true. Even A-Alan has b-basic f-field m-medic tr-training."

Matthews nodded. "OK, they recommended a medical chopper but there is no landing site where they are and an ambulance can't get there because of the muddy road. So a couple of the searchers "appropriated" a school truck to carry Alan back here. There were some emergency supplies brought along – backboard, neck brace, etc. but the paramedics will bring most of what they'll need with the chopper. It will be landing in the Quad right over there."

Looking out the window to where the detective was pointing, Jeff walked over to the door, ready to run out the moment he saw his son arrive, his need to see Alan alive overriding every other thought.

* * *

Virgil had taken the first aid equipment gratefully from one of the other searchers. With tender care, the brothers slid Alan gently onto a back board, John and Gordon securing him so he would not shift as they moved him. While they took care of that, Scott was cautiously placing the neck brace. Even as it clicked into place, he softly asked Virgil a question he had been dreading.

"Do you really think Allie could be paralyzed?"

Looking up from examining Alan's eyes now that he was secure, Virgil frowned. "I don't know Scott. There are signs of injuries on his back, but if he was hit from behind, that shouldn't be a surprise. Alan knows how to take a fall and I hope it helped. My greater concern is his chest and abdomen."

"If he was hit from behind," Gordon questioned as they began to move up the slight incline to where the truck was parked, "how did he get those injuries on the front?"

John answered that one. "He could have rolled on the car's hood, hit a rock as he fell or even as he hit the ground. It didn't have to be anything hard, just for Alan to fall the wrong way."

"And," Gordon piped up, "if anyone could fall wrong, it would be Alan."

Gordon was lucky everyone's hands were full this time.

* * *

Barry Shaheen chatted with his teammates, laughing loudly as the seniors discussed where they were heading after graduation and trying not to seethe about their more immediate plans. European vacations or cruises to the Orient were considered part and parcel before heading off to Oxford, Yale or Stanford. Barry knew they were aware of his scholarship to a school in Iowa and hoped that they never found out that his dad had secured him a job with the City Parks Department back home in Chicago for the summer, which, if he was lucky, would pay for his books, supplies and bus ticket to school.

Out of the corner of his eye, Barry saw a police officer enter and begin to speak with Headmaster Bean. The man's relief was visible from across the gymnasium. _Damn it! _He silently cursed. Barry knew that only a living Alan Tracy would generate that level of emotion in the headmaster. But as quickly as he tensed up, the senior calmed himself. Alan Tracy had no idea who had hit him and as long as Paul kept his mouth shut…

Thinking of Paul Han, Barry felt the tiniest twinge of guilt at how he had left him then let it fade away. Paul would be found, he would survive and hopefully the geek realized that he had as much to lose as Barry did if the truth came to light.

Barry's musings ended as the headmaster stood up and drew the students' attention.

"Young men, I would like to thank you for your patience as a difficult matter was handled here at Wharton's. As many of you are now aware, one of our freshmen went out last night and seemed to disappear. The good news is Alan Tracy has been found and he is alive." Bean paused as Alan's friends and classmates began to chatter in relief before motioning once more for silence.

"Unfortunately, young Mr. Tracy was badly injured. A medical helicopter will be landing on the quad shortly to take him to the nearest level one trauma center. Now, his family is all here. I know Jeff Tracy is a very well-known figure and even his other sons, Scott, John, Virgil and Gordon, are considered rather well-known, but I ask that no one approach them as they are understandably upset. Once the helicopter has left, you can return to your dormitories. The underclassmen can then call for their rides to come and get them while the seniors can return to your graduation preparations."

Looking over the gathered students, Bean nodded once in approval before saying, "Again, I appreciate your cooperation." Taking some folders from an aide who had approached while he was speaking, the headmaster left the gym.

One of his teammates, Tony Deluca, nudged Barry. "Hey, man, we are heading to check it out."

"But the headmaster said-" another student began before he was cut off.

"Bean-o said not to go out to the quad. We can watch though," Tony said. "To see Jeff Tracy? In person? And his sons are almost as famous."

"Weird names for some," Barry muttered.

Tony chuckled. "Not really. My dad has done business with him. He named his sons for the Mercury Seven astronauts - Scott Carpenter, John Glen, Virgil Grissom, Gordon Cooper and Alan Shepard."

"So that is what the S stands for with Alan?" Tony's younger brother Rico asked as he approached the group. Rico shrugged when his brother gave him a one-armed hug. Tony knew that his kid brother had been worried about his classmate.

"Yeah," Tony grinned. "Guess he's lucky. His mother insisted on Alan Shepard. His father wanted the sixth astronaut's name." Tony waited until he had the group's attention before chuckling. "Alan would have been Walter Schirra Tracy."

As the others joined him in his amusement, they began to walk towards the exit, eager for a peek at a living legend. Many of them were sons of wealth and privilege, but, seriously – this was Jeff Tracy!

Following slightly behind the group, Barry felt the slightest bit of sympathy at how the Tracy sons had gotten their names. Die-hard democrats, his parents had named their own children Hilary, William and Barack. Barry just thanked the fates that his father recalled that the former President had been nicknamed "Barry" in his youth. He still cringed when some of the teachers would call him that. Barry swore the first thing he was doing when he was out on his own was legally change his name.

* * *

As the truck rumbled closer to the main campus, Virgil continued to monitor Alan's vitals while Scott made sure the backboard stayed as still as possible. Once they had left the dirt service road, the pathways back was fairly smooth, but the older brother was taking no chances.

Gordon and John had appropriated several rain ponchos and were currently using them to shield Alan from the slowly increasing rain. But seeing Virgil's jaw becoming more and more clenched their initial elation at finding Alan alive was quickly fading.

"Virgil?" Gordon asked softly. "He's gonna be ok, right?"

"I – I don't know, Gordy," Virgil quietly responded. "I'm noticing decreased breath sounds on the right. We may be looking at a collapsed lung."

All the brothers wanted to yell at the police officer driving the truck to go faster, but with the rain slicked pavement that could lead to hydroplaning and getting in another accident was the last thing Alan needed at the moment.

* * *

Jeff Tracy knew Brains and Fermat were standing behind him. He knew that both of them were worried about Alan. He knew that the efficient organization of Detective Matthews had helped assure that his son had been found, alive. But that was the key. Alan was alive according to reports yet Jeff had not seen Alan, hadn't seen his baby still breathing and with them. And until he did, Jeff was unable to focus on anything else.

The frantic father took no note of the helicopter descending into the open quad but the students watching from the gym on the other side certainly did. Barry shook his head in disgust. A common ambulance wasn't good enough for Alan Tracy. Oh, no – he had to have a private, express flight. That Alan's injuries were the reason for the medi-vac chopper didn't occur to Barry. Once more, he assumed money was the cause.

As the rain ponchos sheltering Alan began to flutter rapidly in his brothers' hands. Gordon peaked out and realized that they were almost at the quad. At the same time they were approaching the area, a helicopter was preparing to land.

"Virg!" Gordon shouted above the noise. "The medivac flight is landing now."

"Good," Virgil muttered as he once more checked over his brother. Alan's heart rate was getting extremely rapid and his breath sounds on the right were almost non-existant.

The truck pulled into place just as the medics jumped out of the helicopter. As the four older Tracy brothers carefully lowered Alan out of the bed of the truck, with the paramedics securing Alan to a gurney.

Virgil began rattling off the vitals, even as Jeff ran out to meet them. The two medics looked grim as they started to move Alan towards the chopper. One of the medics, with a name tag reading "Lewis", glanced over at Jeff.

"You the father?" At Jeff's tight nod, Lewis continued.

"We can take one passenger, especially considering he is a minor. We may need immediate authorization for treatment. Do you want to come or is your wife available?"

"My wife is dead," Jeff said bluntly, his eyes focused only on the still face of his youngest son.

The other medic, Gibson, finished with attaching an IV to Alan's arm. "Then I guess you are elected, Mr. … Sorry, what was your name?"

"Tracy."

The two medics glanced at each other but said nothing. They had thought the man looked familiar, but they quickly put all their focus on Alan. Before most people could really take note, the gurney's legs had been folded up and they secured Alan inside the back of the helicopter.

Jeff glanced down briefly as his other sons gathered outside the chopper. "You boys meet me at-" He met the eyes of the medic who answered his unspoken question.

"Baystate Medical Center in Springfield, it's the nearest level one trauma center."

Nodding to his other sons, Jeff immediately refocused on Alan even as the door to the helicopter slid shut and the vehicle began to rise into the sky. It took him a moment to realize that Gibson was pressing a damp cloth into his hand.

"Mr. Tracy," Gibson called out above the beating of the chopper blades. "Try wiping off his face and speaking to him. What's his name?"

"Alan," Jeff said loudly before lowering his voice and leaning towards his son.

"Alan?" he quietly said, wiping dirt from his son's face, frightened at how pale Alan was. Concentrating on his son, it took a moment for Jeff to realize frantic tone the medics' actions had taken. Words like "tachycardia", "trauma" and "cyanosis" were being tossed around. Looking up, Jeff's eyes were drawn to the monitor Alan was hooked up to. Suddenly, before Jeff's horrified eyes, the heart beat, already erratic, suddenly showed a flat line and began a high-pitched whine that tore at Jeff's heart.

"ALAN!"

* * *

**_A/N - Sigh. Yeah, I am psycho._**

**_Alan - No kidding!_**

**_CC - Alan, it's nice to talk to you._**

**_Alan - NICE? You just killed me!_**

**_CC- No, I flatlined you. You can come back from that. And remember, no deathfics._**

**_Scott - No, just...just - Lady, I don't know what to say._**

**_CC- Watch it boys. I am watching Supernatural while typing this. I could do something seriously twisted._**

**_Alan - CC, I've read your stories. You already are twisted!_**

**_CC- Now, Alan. I'm offended. I am not twisted._**

**_Scott - No, just warped, evil, psychotic..._**

**_CC (beams) - Aw, gee, thanks. It's so nice to be noticed._**

**_Alan - Scott, she is - she is - Oh, wait...Maybe she would be a great match for Gordon._**

**_CC - Sorry, boys. Married. Sixteen years to the love of my life and mother of a beautiful daughter. _**

**_Scott - And does he know what you have been doing to my brother, for what, three years now?_**

**_CC - Yep._**

**_Alan - And he is good with that?_**

**_CC - Well, you see, I was having these BP spikes. Writing calms me down. So - torture of imaginary characters, with happy endings, and the occasional implied sex. Or his wife's health being at stake. Which should he prefer?_**

**_Scott - Huh. Yeah. I can see that._**

**_Alan - Scott!_**

**_Scott - Hey, be reasonable Alan. Besides, no death fics, remember?_**

**_Alan - Yeah, I guess so._**

**_CC- Besides - My daughter now reads some stories on fan fic. She may eventually find mine. So...No death fics._**

**_Alan - For your daughter, no death fics._**

**_CC - No, for me, no death fics. I read and write on fan fic to feel better. For my daughter, no spiders. Kid hates spiders._**

**_Scott - And no mice, ok?_**

**_Alan - Seriously, Scott - mice?_**

**_CC - (evil grin) - Oh, I see some potential with that one._**

**_Alan - Oh, great. She's got more inspiration._**

**_CC - Doesn't take much. Jean wants a wee Tracy story with Uncle Jack. What do you think of that one?_**

**_Scott - Now, that sounds harmless._**

**_CC -(pats his cheek) Aw, Scott - you are so sweet and naive. But in the meanwhile, lets get you through the current trauma and drama. Now, you tell these nice folks that if I get fourteen reviews by Sunday, they will get a sweet valentine from me. If not, then who knows when I will post? And you DON'T wanna think about what I did last Valentine's Day._**

**_Alan - Do we wanna know?_**

**_CC - I killed Alan. _**

**_Scott - Hey! What happened to no death fics?_**

**_CC - I found a loophole. (Grins at twin glares) Hey, I used to work for an HMO - I'm still buying my soul back on the installment plan. _**

**_Scott - Alan, we are in so much trouble._**


	9. He's Just a Kid

**Left By the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**_

* * *

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Since some of you live hours to the east of here, I am updating this evening so everyone should have it for Valentines Day. Thanks so much for all the enthusiam for this story. -Sniff - so happy!!!!

**Chapter Nine – He's just a kid**

If you asked Jeff Tracy about most of the brief trip from Wharton's to the helicopter pad at the hospital, he would never be able to give the exact details. But he could list impressions, feelings…Jeff Tracy had known how it felt to have your heart ripped from you. That was what he had felt the day his beloved Lucy had died. But on this day he knew how it felt to have someone shred at your soul.

As they landed, Jeff saw hands reaching in and pulling Alan from the helicopter. Without even leaving the landing pad, his son's shirt was ripped down the front and a portable defibulator was put in place. After a third attempt was made, Jeff felt his breathing restart when he heard a woman's voice call out, "We have a pulse." The mass of medical personnel rushed forward, pulling Alan along as orders were shouted out.

Jeff managed to keep up with the macabre parade that had his youngest child as the primary float all the way through the Emergency Services area of the hospital. He vaguely took note of signs indicating that Baystate Medical Center was a division of Tufts Medical Center and knew he should feel reassured that Alan was at a facility of that caliber. But for now, there would be no peace for Jeff. Not until he knew Alan would live.

Watching as Alan was pulled into a room marked "Trauma Three", Jeff began to follow when a thirty something man, with the body-builder's physique grasped him by the arm with far more gentleness than his form would suggest.

"Sir, you can't go in there."

"But that's my son!" Jeff protested.

"I understand, sir. I'm a father myself. But you'll do more harm than good if you get in the doctors' way." The orderly pulled at Jeff's arm, leading the protesting man from the room. Settling Jeff into a chair, he gave a reassuring smile. "Doctors Axtell and Pierce are the best trauma specialists in the Northeast. I served with both of them in the National Guard. Now, if you wait here, I'll get the paperwork you'll need to get started on."

"Not necessary, Stan," a new voice broke in. An attractive Hispanic woman of an indeterminate age strode forward, holding a hand out to Jeff.

"Mr. Tracy, I am Teresa Delgado, the hospital administrator here at BMC. The headmaster at Wharton's called ahead and alerted us to your arrival. We've set aside one of the surgical waiting rooms for your family's use. In addition, we have alerted security in order to maintain your family's privacy."

Jeff sighed, burying his face in his hands for a moment before looking back up. "Ms. Delgado, with all due respect, I don't want to leave my son. He's barely fifteen years old and he needs me."

"No, Mr. Tracy," the woman said bluntly. "You son needs medical care. I am not a doctor but I have worked in this hospital for almost twenty years, starting as a ward secretary. Your son will need you later. But for now, what he needs is what he has – some of the best medical experts in the region."

Seeing Jeff begin to waiver, Teresa nodded at the orderly. "Stan, would you take Mr. Tracy to Surgical Waiting Room D?"

Jeff reluctantly began to follow Stan when he turned back to the administrator. "Ms. Delgado, can you make sure my other sons are informed where I am when they arrive?"

The woman nodded. "I'll make sure security knows that they are to be escorted there immediately, Mr. Tracy. And as soon as the trauma team knows what will be happening next, someone will be up to talk with you."

Jeff gave a small sign of acknowledgement and left the rooms, never hearing the administrator's sigh. Unlike many facilities in Boston, this hospital, which was, without a doubt, a fine level one trauma center, was not a place used to celebrities being admitted. She had no doubt that the medical staff was up to the challenge of treating a badly injured teenage boy. Whether or not the security staff was prepared for the fourth estate harassing family members or trying to get "the inside scoop" was another thing. Delgado make the swift decision to send out a memo reminding the staff of the consequences of breaching patient confidentiality.

* * *

Headmaster Bean approached the Tracy brothers as they turned away from the vanishing medi-vac chopper. "Mr. Tracy, um…"

John recognized that Scott's temper was dangerously frayed and knew that the last thing the family needed was for his older brother to be charged with criminal assault. "Headmaster, whatever it is, can it please wait?"

The headmaster looked at the four sons, quickly realizing that if Jeff Tracy was a man not to mess with, his sons were rapidly equaling his intimidation factor. "Um, I just wanted to say the entire staff of Wharton's is sending the positive thoughts for Alan. I personally would like to say that it is my most sincere wish that Alan will fully recover and return to school."

"Return to -" Gordon spluttered.

"A-Alan likes it h-here," Fermat said quietly.

The brothers looked at the boy they had come to think of as family and Virgil reached out to give Fermat a quick hug. "Al's strong Fermat. He'll pull through."

"D-do you b-believe th-that?" Brains said quietly.

"We have to," John said with a sad smile.

Detective Matthews approached the headmaster at that time. "Headmaster Bean, according to your assistant, there is currently no one named Barry either among the students or staff."

"That is what is we tried to tell you," Bean said. "Now, either Mr. Han acted alone or his head injury made him confused. I have trouble believing Paul Han would do something so stupid, but…"

Dash stepped forward, interrupting the headmaster. "But Paul doesn't drive, how could he do this?"

The detective looked puzzled. "Why wouldn't Paul Han drive?"

Looking over at the police officer, Dash shrugged. "He's epileptic. He can't get a license unless he goes twelve months without a seizure. That's never happened for Paul." The man's face suddenly lit up. "Hey, there is another work study kid, Paul tutored him sometimes and he would come over to the snack shack. He does grounds work."

"Grounds work?" Bean looked appalled before turning to Matthews. "The groundskeepers have access to the keys. That includes gate locks and school vehicles."

"What is the kid's name?" Matthews asked.

Shrugging once more, Dash said, "Sorry man, just don't know."

The headmaster pulled out his PDA and began to run through lists.

"What's that?" Scott asked tersely.

"A PDA, Scott," Gordon replied, stepping back when everyone – especially his brothers – glared at him.

Bean answered, "The only people who work job studies are either local students, who would have their own vehicles if old enough to drive, or scholarship students. And most of the work-study students who do manual tasks, over more specialized tasks like Mr. Han, tend to be athletes. So I am placing criteria of scholarship students, athletes, and work study. If it draws nothing, I will expand the pool."

The brothers, Hackenbackers and Matthews all looked at each other. Obviously, the headmaster was much sharper than he initially appeared.

"OK," Bean responded. "I have two students who meet the criteria. Brian Dorn and Barack Shaheen."

Coach Michaels had joined the group a moment before, hoping to express his concern for his newest team member when he heard the names the headmaster mentioned. "Barack?" he mused, looking puzzled. Then suddenly, Michaels face lit up in awareness. "Oh, Barry Shaheen! Plays soccer, met him when I helped Coach Abbott with the team last year when his father died and he took a few days off."

Making a face, Michaels frowned. "Why are you asking about that -" He paused, not sure how to politely phrase it. The coach would have admired the eighteen year old's athletic talent if he didn't think it should make others kiss his posterior.

Ignoring the coach's question, Matthews looked over at Dash. "Could you ID the guy who pals around with Paul Han?" When the man nodded, the detective turned to Michaels. "And you can tell us if the person is Shaheen?" The coach also nodded, and Matthews began to lead the group towards the gymnasium.

The Tracy brothers had been intent on getting to the hospital but recognized something was happening. It was John who began to question the situation.

"Detective Matthews, what is going on?"

"Paul Han, a senior, was found semi-conscious in a locked freezer in the snack bar," the detective began, shooting a look at Bean for the man's belief that Han had been in this alone. "Before he fell unconscious again and was taken to the hospital, Han admitted being in the car that hit your brother and leaving Alan there. But he also said something about a Barry convincing him to do it. Leave Alan there, we think he meant."

"So this Barry guy was the one who ran our little brother down and left him to die by the side of the road like a stray dog?" Scott growled out.

"Scott," Virgil said soothingly. "The guy needs to be questioned before you do anything rash."

As the group approached the gym, they saw a handful of students milling around an overhang, obviously trying to catch what was going on yet stay dry from the increasing rain. Suddenly, both Michaels and Dash pointed at one student and said in one voice, "That's him."

An innocent student, Scott would reason later, would be curious and confused as to what the men were talking about. An innocent student would not hear that and go pale before turning and running in the mud, trying to get away as fast as he could.

When Barry began to run, Scott, followed by his brothers, began to chase him down. But his fury gave the oldest Tracy son an extra burst of energy as he tackled the soccer player into the muddy ground. Slamming the younger man's face into the mud, Scott roughly turned him over.

Barry was desperately wishing he were wearing a sports cup as the oldest Tracy brother secured him by placing his knee in groin and stomach. But what he really wanted was to be anywhere else when he saw the fury in the man's face.

Scott kept shaking Barry, slamming his head into the muck. "You son of a bitch! You ran Alan down and left him to die! You covered him up, burying him like rubbish! You piece of shit! How could you do that? How could you do that to him! He's just a kid."

Virgil and John pulled a furious Scott off of Barry as Gordon grasped the student and roughly yanked him to his feet. Barry flinched at the steely, hate filled looks being shot at him by all of the Tracys.

"Now, Scott," John calmly said. "We need proof -"

"Nah," Gordon disagreed as he bruised Barry's arms. "We have good lawyers."

"Yeah," Barry snarled. "You rich bastards think you can get away with anything. So baby Tracy got an owie? Well, the little shit shouldn't have been out there and he wouldn't have got hurt. So what if he did get hurt? I have a future that I worked hard for. Why should I let some stupid rich kid blow it for me?"

"Hurt?" the usually calm Virgil cried out in anger. "Alan didn't scrape his knee. He's suffering from major trauma and could still die. And you left him there like he was garbage."

"If the shoe fits," Barry smirked.

John tried to grab at Scott but lacked the speed to match his older brother's fury and Scott slammed a fist into the student's face.

"By nowz, by nowz! U batard!" Barry screamed through hands clenched over his bleeding nose.

"Our parents were married before Scott was born," John uncharacteristically smirked as he grabbed at Scott's arms to prevent further violence.

Nathan Matthews tried not to smile. Part of him wanted to turn his back and let the Tracys have a few minutes of quality time with the suspect. But that would result in way too much paperwork. Cocking his head slightly, Matthews decided to bring matters to a head.

"Paul Han already told us everything," Matthews bluffed. "We know you were driving, that you were intoxicated and that it was your decision to cover up the accident."

Dash looked like he was about to say something, having been the only other person there now that had been there when they had found Paul. But a nudge and a head shake from Fermat kept him silent as they all wondered where the police detective was heading with this.

Barry didn't look scared. He looked disgusted. "So the slant-eyed bastard couldn't keep his mouth shut, could he? What he do, cry like a baby? Go on and on about how he was going to get Tracy help only for me to remind him how much we had to lose? Or was he bitching about how I nailed him when he was going to spill the beans to Mr. Moneybags on where to find his kid?"

Now it was Matthews' turn to look disgusted. Pulling out his handcuffs, he placed the soon-to-be former Wharton's student under arrest. After reading Barry his rights, the detective leaned in and quietly said, "So you are the one who hit Han, huh? Thanks. We'll add that to the charges against you."

Scott stared angrily as the suspect was handed off to a uniformed policeman who led him to a waiting police car. "Why didn't you let me take care of that – that -"

"Because," John said softly, "Alan needs you. Let the law handle him. We'll make sure every legal tool we have available is used to nail him to the wall. They'll be no getting him off on a technicality."

The four brothers began to move away, heading for their rental car. At the Hackenbackers' assurance that they would see them later at the hospital, they approached the SUV, passing where the patrol car was still parked.

Scott looked like he was about to say something when Virgil pulled him away and deposited him in the front passenger seat. Gordon was almost there when he realized that John was still standing by the window, waiting for Barry Shaheen to acknowledge him.

Finally, Barry looked up and sneered at the man who looked eerily like an older version of his victim. "What?"

"Do you pray?"

"What business is it of yours?" Barry snapped.

"Because if I were you, I would pray. Because if our little brother doesn't walk – not just leave, but walk – out of that hospital, you won't have to worry about a trial. They would need you alive for a trial."

John turned to join his brothers when he realized Matthews was standing behind him.

"John," the detective began, "you really shouldn't threaten him."

"What threat?" John said softly. "That was a vow on our mother's grave."

Shaking his head, Matthews admonished him. "You really want to be facing charges? The second they find his body, they would be arresting you."

His blue eyes uncharacteristically icy, John noticed that Barry had heard the entire conversation. Looking directly at the younger man, John snapped, "Who says you would ever find a body?"

Turning on his heel, John stalked off to the SUV and climbed in.

Detective Matthews watched as the Tracys disappeared in the rain before sniffing the air. Glancing askance at Barry, he turned and walked away – but not before alerting the police officer who would be escorting the suspect to jail that the young man should be given his orange jumpsuit _first._

He would need dry pants.

* * *

At Baystate Medical Center, Paul Han woke to the sound of a heart monitor. The steady beeping assured him that he was alive. Recalling the furious eyes of Jeff Tracy, and imaging what the brothers would be feeling, made Paul realize that being alive might not be such a great thing, unless Alan was as well.

Seeing a nurse come in and check his vitals, Paul forced his eyes open wider, trying to catch her attention. "N-nurse," he stumbled out softly.

Looking over at the bed, the nurse gave a small smile and pulled out the chart hanging at the end of the bed. "Well, hello, Mr. Han. We'll have to let the doctor know you are awake."

"I was out that long from a bump on the head?" Paul asked as a medical assistant entered in order to move some equipment. Both Paul and the nurse ignored her and continued their conversation.

"Oh, no," the nurse responded. "It was a seizure. I'm sure that you have had epileptic seizures before, or else why the medi-alert bracelet?"

Paul felt at the bracelet on his left wrist in an absent motion. "Oh. OK. Yeah, I've had them when I get stressed before." Steeling himself, he asked directly, "Are the police here?"

Not noticing the attention the MA was giving the conversation now, the nurse nodded. "Yes, they are. There is an officer outside of your door. No one but select hospital personnel are allowed in until a detective from the state police comes in. I can't remember his name, but it's written down at the desk. Oh," she continued lowering her eyes and returning the chart to its hook. "We are also supposed to tell the officer if you want to call a lawyer."

Shaking his head, wincing in pain at that motion, Paul spoke in a monotone. "No. But if you hear anything on Alan Tracy, can you let me know? I – I really need to know if they found him in time."

Nodding, the nurse gave a small smile before shooing the MA out ahead of her and dimming the lights. "Try and get some rest, Mr. Han."

Sheila, the MA, turned to Linda Bailey, the nurse as they left the room. "Did you hear him? Alan Tracy? And he was admitted from Wharton's? Oh, come one – You had to have seen that Jeff Tracy's son disappeared at his school. I bet that kid had something to do with it."

Linda frowned at the MA, before heading to the nurses' station. "And if he did, that is none of our concern. Mr. Han is a patient here and -"

Just then, a flurry of activity caught their attention. "Linda!" A voice called from down the hall. "Dr. Axtell is requesting you to join the trauma team at the chopper pad. Level One Trauma is coming in from Wharton's."

As the closest hospital to the exclusive boys' school, BMC was used to having some of its students as occasional patients. But this was only the second time in her fifteen years at the hospital that Linda could recall the trauma team being activated for someone from Wharton's. Everything else was forgotten as she raced out to the chopper pad.

Sheila waited until Nurse Bailey was gone before slipping around the corner and pulling out her cell phone. "Hello? I need to speak with Ana. This is Sheila Nevada, her cousin. Yes, I'll wait." Humming a popular song, Sheila was buzzing with anticipation until a voice came on the line.

"Annie? It's Sheila. Remember how I told you I needed two thousand dollars to pay for my entrance fee to the modeling school? Well, you are gonna help me get it. Oh, yes you are. Because I have the scoop of a lifetime for you." Smirking in satisfaction, she leaned against the wall. "I have just one name for you – Jeff Tracy. That's right. He'll be coming here. I'm pretty sure his youngest son is being rushed here as we speak. And they activated the trauma team for him. How much of a scoop is tragedy on that level? Not to mention, I saw that article in People. There hasn't been a published picture of Alan Tracy since his mother's funeral. That might even be worth a bonus, don't you think?"

Closing the phone, Sheila Nevada slipped it back into her smock and looked around. If Ana could get the exclusive on the tragic happenings of America's equivalent of royalty, this would be the last week she had for doing tasks as a poorly-paid volunteer. Most hospitals did not employ medical assistants and Sheila was shipped from one part of the hospital based on staffing needs, mainly just running EKGs and gathering labs. Tossing back her luxurious black hair, Sheila vowed that she was meant for more than this and would get it.

One way or the other.

* * *

Virgil may not have been the fastest driver in the family – Scott held that title, although Alan promised to be a challenger – but as shook up as Scott was, the oldest Tracy brother was in no shape to drive.

Taking advantage of the advertised valet parking, the brothers all quickly climbed out of the SUV and headed towards the entrance only to find their way suddenly blocked. A twenty something woman stood there, a microphone in hand and a camera man relentlessly recording.

"This is Ana Nevada, standing at Baystate Medical Center in Springfield, Massachusetts. A new twist has been reported in the missing person case of Alan Tracy. The youngest son of reclusive billionaire, Jefferson Tracy, the teenager is a student at the exclusive Wharton Academy for Boys. We are now being joined by Jeff Tracy's other sons."

Shoving the microphone at the brothers, the reporter asked, "Boys, can you confirm that your brother was brought to Baystate Medical Center in critical condition? How was he injured and do you have any word on his medical status? Do you know if he is even alive?"

Scott glared at the woman while John did his best to ignore her and steered his brother around. Virgil looked devastated. His last sight of Alan had been of his little brother in extremely critical condition. Even though there had been little he could do, Virgil took any injury to his brothers very personally and held himself responsible if they were not fighting fit.

Not one to be ignore, Ana moved closer to the brothers, determined to get a sound bite. "How do you feel about the possibility of burying another family member? How – ACK!"

Scott, John and Virgil whirled back to see the reporter trip and fall into a large mud puddle just off the sidewalk that ran next to the overhang. As she emerged, sputtering and wiping mud from her face, Gordon looked down at her dispassionately.

"Really, lady, you need to watch your step. Cement can be slippery when wet."

Ignoring the surprised look from his brothers and the amused smirk of the camera man, Gordon strolled into the hospital. After getting instructions at the admissions desk, the brothers followed a security officer to an elevator to join their father.

"Gordo?"

"Yeah, Johnny?"

"Did you trip that reporter?"

"Would I do that?"

Virgil kept his eyes forward as he piped up. "If you thought you could get away with it – Yes."

Gordon nodded. "Well, I did get away with it, didn't I?"

"Gordon," Scott finally spoke up.

"Yes, oh – fearless - leader?"

"Take one pardon for future trouble making out of the petty cash box, OK?"

Gordon gave his brothers a small smile but as the doors of the elevator swished open, the Tracys lost any sign of good humor as they followed the security guard down the hall. The next few minutes could determine not only what was happening to Alan, but the fate of the family as a whole.

* * *

_**A/N - Barry was busted. And so was his nose. Scott got a few good licks in and John showed that he may usually be the calm, cool, thoughtful Tracy son - but even he has his limits. But he is right. They could take Barry up on Three and dump him out of Five. Alive or dead first is the only question.**_

**_Now - Baystate Medical Center really is a level one trauma center in that area. But the people inside will be of my own imagination. And oh, yeah - Ana Nevada will be back and a pain in the neck as always._**

**_Hmmm. Well, I got fourteen reviews, and I updated early. So what does that tell you? The highed the number of reviews the more pressure I feel to respond. Enjoy! - CC_**

**_PS - Does anyone want anyone else besides Scott or Alan in next chapter's conversation at the end? I am open for suggestions._**


	10. He's A Tracy

**Left By the Wayside**

**By Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer – see chapter one**_

_**You like, you like! ---Happy Dance---**_

_**Oh, and I may work in a doctors' office but I have no clue about most medical procedures. So thanks loads to Wikipedia and man do I miss having Little Miss Bump helping out.**_

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**Chapter Ten – He's a Tracy**

Jeff Tracy looked up as a cup of coffee was placed in front of him. Picking it up, he absently took a sip before looking up to see who had delivered the beverage. Seeing the orderly – Stan? – in front of him, Jeff gave a brief nod and set the cup back down. "Thanks," he muttered.

"No problem, Mr. Tracy," Stan Thomas responded. "Ms. Delgado asked that I stay with you until your sons arrived."

"You don't have to," Jeff said.

"I want to, Mr. Tracy," Stan answered. "I know you have to be worried sick. Oh," he added, placing some papers in front of Jeff. "We have your son's medical records. Someone -" Stan thumbed through the papers before continuing. "An Ann-Marie Thompson sent the records and your insurance information. You just need to sign to confirm the info."

Picking up the pen that had been placed next to the papers, Jeff began to sign. He knew they would be accurate if Ann-Marie, his long-time Personal Assistant, had sent them. There were times he thought that if it wasn't for her, his business and his life would have fallen apart years ago. Catching the note she had placed in the top e-mail, Jeff almost smiled.

"_Don't let Jeff drink too much coffee."_

* * *

The four oldest Tracy brothers easily passed the security guard once they reached the hallway marked "Surgical Waiting Rooms". Approaching the door with the large "D" on it, they all froze. As much as they wanted to know how Alan was, they were equally afraid of that knowledge and the pain it could bring.

Steeling himself, Scott opened the door and spotted their father sitting on a generic couch – he swore all hospitals put in bulk orders – signing off on some papers. At the sound of the door opening, Jeff looked up hopefully and was mildly disappointed to see his sons.

"Hey boys. I was hoping it was someone coming to tell me how Alan was."

"No word yet?" Virgil asked as he settled down next to his father. Jeff shook his head and handed the paperwork back to Stan.

"Someone from the trauma team will be up here as soon as they can give you some answers, Mr. Tracy," Stan told him. Shaking the papers with one hand, he nodded at the brothers before continuing. "I'm just going to bring these to the nurses' station. I'll have someone scan them into Alan's e-chart." Looking them over as he moved towards the door, the orderly glanced back at Jeff. "Allergies to penicillin and walnuts?"

Jeff nodded. "Yes. We found out about the penicillin allergy when Alan was – what? Fifteen months old?"

John murmured a yes, before adding. "Right. When he got that ear infection. Alan, Virgil and I all get Mom's migraines, but Al was the only one to get her medicine allergy."

Gordon was staring into a fish tank in the room while he absently spoke, "The walnut allergy we only found out about at Winter Break back in February."

Sensing that something about that allergy bothered Gordon, Stan simply nodded and left the room.

"So…" Scott murmured. "Nothing yet?"

It was an unnecessary question that Jeff didn't bother to answer.

Just then, the door opened again. Expecting the orderly to be returning, the Tracys were surprised at the sight of a young woman. She stood only a few inches over five feet but stood with a confidence that hid her height. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a French braid and her chocolate colored eyes emitted compassion.

"Mr. Tracy?" At Jeff's nod, she continued. "I'm Dr. Shana Pierce. Dr. Axtell and I are heading the trauma team for your son, Alan."

Pulling up a hassock, Dr. Pierce sat down, motioning the Tracys, who had all stood up to sit as well. Once they had either returned to or found seats on the two sofas in the room, she began to speak.

"Alright, Mr. Tracy, I'm not one for sugar-coating, so I will tell you that we almost lost Alan again in the trauma room. But," she hurried on once she saw the family's shock, "we were able to quickly get him back this time. I need to go over Alan's injuries with you and what we need to do."

"Wait," Virgil interrupted. "What do you mean you lost Alan again?"

Looking confused, Dr. Pierce glanced at the four brothers before returning her gaze to Jeff.

"My older sons just got here," Jeff explained. "I didn't have a chance to tell them yet."

"Oh," Dr. Pierce sighed. "Well, Alan coded in the medi-vac chopper. Luckily, they were very close and we were able to work on him as soon as they landed."

The brothers looked as if they were going to be ill. John, sitting on the opposite side of Jeff, reached out and grasped his father's arm. As Jeff's unofficial sounding board, John knew how traumatic that had to have been for the older man.

Jeff patted at John's hand, acknowledging the comforting gesture without ever taking his eyes from the doctor.

Allowing the family a moment to absorb what she had already said, Dr. Pierce started anew with her list.

"OK, going from best news first: Alan dislocated his right shoulder which was easy enough to reset. Some gentle exercise should take care of that. He was also suffering from mild hypothermia which, again, was easily addressed."

A small nod from her patient's father had Dr. Pierce continuing. "Next was Alan's left ankle, which was a clean break. We'll be putting that in a light cast and it should be healed in about four weeks. Alan also had some damage to his ribs. Most of them are at least bruised, two are cracked in the back and one was broken in the front of his chest – I am presuming he landed chest first after the initial impact. The broken rib was a displaced rib -"

Dr. Pierce paused, planning to explain before seeing that the family understood the phrase, which allowed her to continue. "The displaced rib caused Alan's most serious injury, a collapsed right lung. This pneumothorax is what led to a hemothorax which is what caused the cardiac arrest."

"Did you place a stent already?" Virgil asked.

"We did," Dr. Pierce responded, mildly surprised that the family comprehended the medical terms, even if they were appalled by Alan's injuries. "But it isn't enough. We need to make sure there are no bone fragments in Alan's chest and while we are there, Dr. Axtell and I will make sure the lung is remaining inflated as well as cleaning up the blood."

"In addition," Dr. Pierce sighed mildly, "there was a small tear in Alan's spleen, which we feel we can repair without having to remove the organ. He could live without the spleen, but it would be better for him not to."

"And the head injury?" Scott asked tersely.

"A mild skull fracture. There was some fluid, we put in a tube to drain it already and our chief neurologist will double check later, but I am fairly certain there will be no lasting damage from that."

"What about his back?" Gordon whispered, tears having gathered in his eyes at the listing of his baby brother's injuries.

Dr. Pierce sighed again. "I'll be honest with you. There is swelling in that area and scans aren't showing any breaks, but there may be nerve damage or hairline fractures of the spinal column that would not show until the swelling goes down. Our best gauge for that may be when Alan wakes up."

Standing, Dr. Pierce looked the family over. "I have to go get ready for the surgery. Mr. Tracy, I'll need you to sign these consent forms." Jeff quickly did and the physician reclaimed the electronic note pad she had handed him.

"Alan will be moved to surgery in ten minutes. Do you remember where the trauma center was, Mr. Tracy?" When Jeff nodded, Dr. Pierce gave a small smile. "You and your sons can go see him. But the second you are told you have to leave, you have to, understand?"

The Tracys all nodded this time and followed Dr. Pierce to the door. Just outside the waiting room, Stan walked up to the group.

"Oh, Stan, wonderful," Dr, Pierce acknowledged the man. "Can you take the Tracys through the staff route to the Trauma Area? They can get there faster. I have to get ready."

"Will do, Doc," Stan grinned. "And Linda said to tell you that she'll grab the labs and final scans for the Ax Man."

Sighing, Dr. Pierce walked off in the opposite direction. "Why can't you call Dr. Axtell by his proper name, Stan?"

"When he's Colonel Axtell I do, mon Capitain!" Stan nodded at the Tracys before motioning at them to follow him. As they walked towards a secured elevator, Stan noticed the odd looks the family was giving him.

"Sorry. I serve in the same Air National Guard unit as the doctors. We all give the Dr. Axtell – or Colonel Axtell once a month – a hard time. But he's the best. As for Dr. Pierce – Captain Pierce – we act just the opposite. Girl's bright as they come, and she was the daughter of the Colonel's best friend. He helped raise her after her folks died in an accident and she spent more time here at the hospital than anywhere else. Guess it's hard to think of her as an adult sometimes, even if she is twenty-six now. But give her a scalpel and there's no one I would trust my life more to. 'Cept maybe Dr. Axtell."

Stan had used a card key to activate the elevator as he explained and when the doors opened, he ushered the group in. As they began to head down, Jeff asked a question that had been bothering him.

"Stan?" The orderly turned to him and Jeff took that as a sign to continue. "When Alan – when they were working on Alan on the flight pad, I thought I saw Dr. Pierce handling the paddles."

"Probably. Why?"

"She said something odd," Jeff explained. "She said "_Don't let the bastard win". _Who was she talking about?"

"Death," Stan said bluntly. "Dr. Pierce takes it pretty personally. See that accident that killed her folks? Dr. Pierce was in it. They were trapped for almost two days, just off the highway. But no one noticed the accident until a road crew was working in the area because of heavy underbrush. By the time they were found, her folks were dead and she spent almost a month as an inpatient. Everyone has something they do to overcome tragedy. That was the doc's."

As the doors slid open, the Tracys stayed silent. They knew what they had done to overcome the tragedy of Lucy Tracy's death, so they understood perfectly.

* * *

Barry sat in a cell, having been given an orange jump suit to change into. "Hey," he snapped at a passing officer. "Don't I get a lawyer?"

The officer glared at him, as everyone had heard what the guy had done. "Yeah, a call was put into the public defenders office. You'll get someone by tomorrow morning."

"I'm only in high school; you can't just leave me here."

Another officer walked up to the cell at that point. "Excuse me, but aren't you eighteen?" When Barry nodded, he continued. "Consider yourself lucky. Once we are done processing, you could have been sent to lock-up. Since the Public Defenders office is backlogged, Detective Matthews suggested you be kept here. Rather nice of him, wouldn't you say?"

"Nice? How many people who get into car accidents get thrown in jail?" Barry sneered.

"Car -" The first officer stared at him before throwing his hands in the air and storming off.

"What?" Barry snapped.

"Car accident? You jerk," the second officer groaned. "You ran a kid down, left him there – hell, you tried to hide him, delaying him being found. If he dies, the DA is gonna wanna push for extenuating circumstances. You better hope he lives. And you might wanna be glad this isn't a death penalty state."

The second officer stalked off, leaving Barry alone. As he leaned against the stone wall, Barry muttered angrily, "If it wasn't Jeff Tracy's kid, nobody would be making this big a fuss. Stupid Tracys. They've ruined my life."

* * *

The Tracys followed Stan back to the area Jeff had been escorted from not all that long ago. As they approached the door marked "Trauma Room Three", Jeff felt an icy grip seizing at his heart.

"I want to see Alan," Gordon whispered from the back of the group, "but -"

When Gordon didn't speak further, Virgil put an arm around his brother's shoulders and gave him a one armed hug, wordlessly agreeing on the sentiment.

John worried when Scott said nothing, concerned that the oldest Tracy son was holding too much in for his own good. But he also knew that nothing he could say could help.

Opening the door, the orderly led the Tracys into the room where they got their first sight of Alan since his arrival at the hospital. The teenager lay on a bed, hooked up to a variety of monitors, with IVs feeding the boy medicine and plasma. But most shocking of all was the breathing tube protruding from Alan's mouth.

Jeff stumbled towards the bed, barely aware of John placing a bracing arm around his father's waist as he guided him into a chair that had been pulled up to the bed by Stan. Brushing a shaking hand over his son's hair, Jeff whispered "Oh, Allie. Oh, baby – I am so sorry. I was angry and upset about something and you called..." Jeff sighed, rubbing the back of his hand against Alan's cheek. "I yelled at you and I hurt you. If I hadn't done that, you wouldn't have been out there. I would have picked you up and we would have gone to New York together. Got the tickets to the premier of "Mage of Mars" since I know how much you wanted to see it. I wanted to show you how proud I am of how hard you have been trying."

Scott had squatted down next to Alan on the other side. Bending his head down, he said nothing for a moment. When he raised his head, his brothers were shocked at the tears running down Scott's face. "Allie, please – do you know what Dad said a few months ago? When there was that, um, problem and we didn't think you could handle it without us?"

Looking over at Gordon, he nodded. "Gordo said, _"Alan – he's just a kid." _You know what Dad said? He just looked at us and said, _"He's a Tracy."_ Nothing else. It was all he had to say. So you need to be a Tracy again. You need to be strong. Because -" Scott sucked in a breath, his body shaking with the stress of keeping his emotions down.

"Because we love you, Sprout," Virgil said softly, bending down next to his oldest brother, joining Scott's hand on Alan's arm.

"And we need you, kiddo," John said from next to Jeff, resting one hand on the chair and the other on Alan's hand, tracing the IV with his thumb.

From the bottom of the bed, Gordon looked at his only younger brother before he placed a hand on Alan's foot. "Hey Al. Do you remember when I had my accident? You wouldn't let me quit. So I am warning you here and now – I am not letting you give up. You are going to live and I plan on seeing you run again, got it? Guess we need you to get another pair of running shoes. Because you are so gonna need them, hear me?"

The Tracys sat in silence, the sounds of the medical equipment the only thing anyone would hear in the room. Suddenly, Stan and Linda came back in.

"Mr. Tracy?" Linda approached the bed. "I'm sorry, but we have to bring Alan up to surgery. Stan will take you back up to the waiting room on the surgical floor." Turning to the orderly, she whispered, "Security is trying to find that blasted reporter, but keep them to the staff elevators."

Jeff reluctantly stood and, with his sons, followed Stan back out into the hall. Holding back for a minute, the Tracys watched as the Trauma Team escorted Alan into the hallway and out of their sight.

_Please, Lucy, _Jeff thought, _be with our baby. We lost you, I don't think we could handle losing Alan as well._

* * *

_**A/N – OK, so the Tracys are all together, Barry is in jail…Maybe this is a good place to leave it.**_

_**Alan – Lady, get your butt back here! You have me unconscious, badly hurt and enroute to surgery. You do not get to leave me here.**_

_**John – I have to agree with Alan, CC. You can't leave it here.**_

_**Alan – John, how did you get here?**_

_**CC – Oh, he was the favorite for including in the next conversation. – **__loud banging noise__** – So, John – I ever tell you how much Sam1 likes you? Or, um, how much people loved you scaring the pi$$ out of Barry? Did you like the wife and family I created for you in my other stories?**_

_**John (sighs) – Yes, CC, I am aware of Sam1. Because of her, I am in a very racy rated M story.**_

_**Alan – Really?**_

_**John (cuffs the back of his brother's head) – It was with my wife. Not the one CC gave me, the one Sam1 did.**_

_**CC – Yeah, it was hot. I can't write blatant, only implied sex.**_

_**John – We are seriously off subject. Now - **__loud banging noise – __**Wait, what was that noise?**_

_**CC (sighs) – It's Scott. He can be scary.**_

_**Alan – You locked Scott in a closet? Why?**_

_**CC – Why do you think I introduce Kate in the stories? She is the one person who tells him to shush and if he doesn't, she isn't afraid to knock his block off. Besides, regular sex does wonders for big brother. Relieves all that stress and tension.**_

_**Alan – Oh, man – so don't want to think about that.**_

_**John – Feel sorry for Virgil – he walked in on it. Twice. Two different series.**_

_**CC- Well, Gordon walked in on Alan and Tin-Tin…**_

_**John – What? **_

_**CC – Relax. In that story, Alan was twenty-two and graduated from college.**_

_**Alan (mutters) Damn. (Sighs) Well, we still have to let Scott out.**_

_**CC – OK, here is the deal. I will keep writing, as long as people keep reading, and I will give you the key to the padlock on the closet. But only if you give me a head start. Like I said, Scott is scary.**_

_**The brothers nod. CC hands over the key and runs.**_

_**Alan – Hey, she is gone. Can we rewrite the story?**_

_**John – Nah, this is a word doc. Fan Fic is giving CC fits again and she can't upload this chapter right now. So she will double check it once she has uploaded it but before it is published. She would remove anything we tamper with.**_

_**Alan – Damn.**_

_**John – Alan, language! **_

_**Alan – John, I have been chewed out unfairly by Dad, run down by a drunk driver, abandoned for HOURS, my heart has stopped twice, I am on a vent, and on my way to surgery. I think some minor cussing is permitted.**_

_**John – shrugs – Yeah, I'll give you that one, Sprout. Just don't let Dad or Scott catch you.**_

_**Alan – Fair enough. And don't call me Sprout.**_


	11. I've Got a Plan

**Left By the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**_Disclaimer - See Chapter One_**

**_Huh. You like da whump?_**

**_Oh, and I am once more borrowing Iniysa's "walnut" story. Thanks again, girl!_**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven – I've Got a Plan**

Seated once more on the generic sofa in the waiting room that had been assigned to the Tracy family, Jeff fiddled with his cell phone, wondering if he should call and let others know…

"Damn," Jeff mumbled, as he picked up his now-cold cup of coffee and took a sip.

"Dad?" John said softly as he set down the book he had found on one of the tables in the room.

"I – I want to be doing _something,_ and there is nothing I can do."

Virgil and John looked at each other in concern before sitting on either side of their father.

"Dad," Virgil responded, resting a hand over his father's clench fist. "You need to rest. Alan is going to need all of us." Turning to Scott and Gordon, he was hoping for help but both of his brothers were lost in their own pain.

Suddenly, Scott turned from where he had been staring out the window. "I'm going to get us some more coffee and some sandwiches." Before his family could say anything, the oldest Tracy son was already gone.

"How much you want to bet he will be hitting up every nurses station to try and get status on Alan's surgery?" John asked over Jeff's bent head.

Virgil gave a small smile. "No way am I taking that sucker bet."

Gordon shot up from where he had been crouched next to the aquarium. "I – I need some air. I'll have my cell if anyone needs me." Once again, a Tracy brother had fled the room before anyone can say anything.

Even as the door shut behind Gordon, John's cell phone beeped. Snapping it open, he read the text message and gave a small smile. "Hey, Dad – Penny says to watch the news." Picking up the remote from the coffee table in front of them, John clicked on the large screen TV in the corner of the room.

_This is Lisa Lowe reporting. As we informed you earlier, it had been noted that the auto-alert system for the Thunderbirds had been activated, leading to concerns that perhaps another mad-man had attacked the World's Heroes once more. But a new message was received by this network a short time ago. _

_The newest update from an International Rescue agent was that a member of the team had been seriously injured in a non-rescue related accident. To quote the latest release – "The Thunderbirds are like a family and we feel that our place at this time is by our fallen brother's side. We ask the world for your understanding and your prayers."_

_All I can say is that the Thunderbirds have been there for the world in some of our darkest hours. Now they are asking for the same thing for us. I, for one, am certainly aware of how much these brave souls have risked for the world. And my prayers are definitely with them. As word of the personal tragedy striking International Rescue spreads, many people are sending their prayers as well. _

The Tracys watched, humbled, as person after person – some famous, some people from the street – basically echoed the reporter's words.

"If all reporters were like Lisa," John joked, "life would be a lot simpler."

"Well, they aren't," Jeff grumbled. "But who sent out the -" He stopped for a moment before smiling slightly. "Penny, hmm?"

John nodded. "She says to keep her updated. And let her know if she is needed."

Jeff's smile widened a bit. "She's always needed," he said softly. "She's been a good friend for years."

John looked at Virgil, who just shrugged. The fact that Penny wouldn't mind being more than friends was something that the boys were all aware of. He knew from what Penny said, marriage was not something she was interested in. But she had also tried hinting to Jeff that she wouldn't mind being "friends – with benefits."

As smart as Jeff Tracy was, the man could sometimes be extremely clueless.

* * *

Detective Nathan Matthews was not a happy man. Thanks to some reporter, the media was aware that Alan Tracy had been found and rushed to Baystate Medical Center. Thankfully, all of the family of the victim was in the facility and the security had been keeping them at bay. Matthews had been in awe of some of the police officers he worked with, men and women who had offered to "unofficially volunteer" to help with security if needed.

There was something about this case that had touched them all deeply. Maybe it was the fact that the Tracy family was people that had already suffered so much. Maybe it was seeing how the potential loss of the Tracy baby had devastated the other men at the mere thought. Maybe it was the show of unconditional love and support the family had, and the unending determination to protect each other. Tragedy often brought out the worst in most people. But in the case of the Tracy Family, calamity made them like an oak that had weathered repeated storms – stronger and enduring.

Yet if they lost Alan Tracy – something the medical reports were making it sound like a possibility – Matthews wondered if that would be the force of nature that broke the Tracy family.

Standing outside a hospital room, Matthews waited a moment before knocking. A muttered, _"Come in"_ and, with a nod at the Springfield police officer sitting outside the room, the detective entered to start his first interrogation.

* * *

Sheila Nevada knew her cousin was waiting for more info to make sure she had the scoop in the latest drama of the Tracy family. With security – and half the hospital – on the look out for the supposed reporter who had snuck in, the MA used the confusion caused by the rumor she had spread to access Alan Tracy's file.

"Damn," Sheila cussed, blocked repeatedly by her lack of security clearance. Finally, she drew up a patient listing. Her eyes went wide when she saw a capital D next to the teen's name. Not recognizing the coding as to the location for Alan's family – Surgical Waiting Room D – she assumed it was an indicator that Alan had died.

"Oh, Ana," Sheila breathed as she slipped away from the desk, barely avoiding a ward secretary. "Have I got a scoop for you!"

* * *

Gordon Tracy had wandered away and was surprised to find himself in pediatrics. Looking around, he wondered why his presence hadn't been challenged. Hospital personnel tended to discourage unauthorized people in areas where young children would be. Not wanting to cause any problems, Gordon turned to leave when he heard faint sniffling. Looking around, he spotted a small blonde head curled up next to a sofa in the waiting area.

Bending down, Gordon gave a small smile and waited for the little boy to look up at him. Blue eyes, filled with tears, looked up at the red-headed Tracy son in curiosity.

"Hey," Gordon said softly before sitting, cross-legged, on the carpet. "Are you hurt?"

Blonde curly hair bounced as the child shook his head. "No," the little boy whispered. "Not so much."

"Well," Gordon mused, "you sure have the hospital fashion look down." The joke fell flat – or at least right over the child's head. Looking around, Gordon asked, "Where's your family?"

Tears poured from the little boy's eyes and his lower lip trembled. "My mommy died. We were in an ax-see-den and mommy went to heaven. Daddy is really sad and he doesn't say anything. My brudder- his name is Trebor – he's gonna come home and take care of stuff. My sister – her name is Hever – says they won't listen to her cause she is still in school. But Trebor is all growed up. But no one is gonna have time for me now."

Sighing, Gordon reached over and pulled the little boy into his arms. "What's your name?"

"Allen."

Freezing for a moment, Gordon swallowed back the lump in his throat before speaking. "Well, Allen, let me tell you something. My mom died when I was nine. And my Dad was really sad for a long time too. But we had a little brother to take care of so we all were strong for him. Family is really important. You'll see."

Little Allen sighed and curled into Gordon, who in turn leaned against the wall. As Gordon rocked the toddler, memories of trying to comfort his baby brother after their mother's death flooded back to him. Seeing that the child had fallen asleep, Gordon began to look around for some hospital personnel.

"Allen!" A voice called out suddenly, startling Gordon. Looking around, he saw a young man in a Marine uniform run towards them. Falling silent when Gordon made a hushing noise, the man whipped off his service cap and knelt by the pair.

"Um, hi," Gordon whispered. "I take it you are grown-up Trevor."

"Yeah," Trevor whispered. "Lance Corporal Trevor Ballard. Do you have family here?"

Gordon nodded. "My little brother is being operated on. A drunk driver ran him down. They, um…" Tears welled in his eyes. Sighing, he steeled himself and continued.

"It's bad."

Looking around, Trevor sat down next to Gordon and pulled his sleeping brother into his lap. Brushing at the blonde hair, Trevor placed a gentle kiss on top of Allen's head. "Where's your family?"

Gordon shrugged. "Probably still in the surgical waiting room. They said it could be a while. I hate waiting like that. Reminds me of when mom died." Seeing Trevor's surprise, Gordon ran the back of his hand over the tot's cheek.

"My kid brother was a bit younger than yours when he and our mom were in an accident. Mom died and Alan was hurt pretty badly. But he lived. If he dies now, I don't know what we will do. Allie was the reason we kept going last time."

"Little brothers are stronger than older siblings like to think," Trevor remarked as he stood, still cuddling his sleeping brother.

"Hope so," Gordon whispered, before turning to leave.

Trevor watched as the other young man left the ward. Shaking his head, the Marine began to walk his sleeping sibling back to his room. As he passed the nurses' station, Trevor caught sight of a television tuned to New England News Station.

_And here is exclusive footage of the four older Tracy sons arriving at the hospital that Alan Tracy was rushed to earlier today. As our viewers know, Alan Tracy vanished from his boarding school in Western Massachusetts, only to be found much later. Unconfirmed sources are saying the boy was run down by a fellow student who was driving a stolen vehicle under the influence. Instead of getting help for the injured teenager, the accused drunk driver hid the boy. There is no word yet if this unthinkable act turned this from an accident to a tragedy. _

_Alan Tracy is the youngest son of billionaire ex-astronaut, Jeff Tracy. More than a decade ago, Tracy's wife, Lucille, mother of his five sons, died in an accident while on a family ski vacation. This picture, taken at the Lucille Tracy's funeral, is the last publicly published photo of the youngest Tracy son._

A picture of a man Trevor easily recognized as Jeff Tracy was flashed onto the screen. In his arms was a blonde child, obviously recovering from some kind of accident himself. But it was a small red-headed boy that drew the marine's eyes. With a flash of insight, he recognized his companion from the family waiting area.

Clutching his brother closer to his chest, Trevor hushed Alan when he began to stir. Blinking, blue-eyes cracked open slightly before becoming wide.

"Trebor," Allen Ballard whispered. "Yous came."

"Of course I did, baby bro," Trevor smiled at his little brother before cuddling him closer. "That's what big brothers do. We come and take care of our little guys."

Looking around, the tot asked innocently, "Where's my fwend? He was here."

Smiling again, Trevor carried his brother back into his room. As he placed the child in his bed, he tucked Allen in and kissed his forehead. "He had to go take care of his brother. Like I said – that's what big brothers do."

As Trevor's Allen fell back asleep, the marine sent up a prayer for Gordon's Alan – that the angels who watch over little brothers were taking care of both Alans. Because big brothers need little brothers as much as little brothers need them back.

* * *

Detective Matthews let the door shut quietly behind him and watched Paul Han. The young man lay in his hospital bed, a white bandaged wrapped around his head a stark contrast to his black hair. Weary eyes looked over at the detective for a moment before they shifted back over to the window.

"Are you here to arrest me?" Paul softly asked.

"Not yet," Matthews said. "The DA isn't as sure on yours as he is on Shaheen."

"But I was there," Paul said, incredulous. "I didn't do anything. I didn't tell anyone when it could have done some good. And now Alan is dead because of me."

"Alan Tracy isn't dead." Matthews relaxed a bit at the sheer relief on Han's face. "But," the detective reluctantly added, "he is currently in surgery and his condition isn't good. If he dies, you will definitely be charged. If he lives, the fact that you were not driving, and that you wanted to come forward will be to your benefit."

Paul nodded, his relief that Alan was alive tempered by the knowledge that the younger boy could still die.

"Now, I need to ask you some questions," Matthews explained. "I also have to ask if you want a lawyer before I begin questioning."

"No," Paul responded. "I know my rights and if you want to, I will waive them."

The detective pulled up a chair and drew out a small recording device. "OK, Paul – I can call you Paul, right?" A nod had him continuing. "Alright, we are just going to chat for a bit. First, please state your name, age and current residence for the record."

"Paul Michael Han, eighteen, and I currently live at Wharton Academy for Boys in Massachusetts, although my family lives in Pasadena, California. I am -" Paul sighed, then began anew.

"I was supposed to be moving back there after graduation and I had been accepted to Cal-Sci. Full ride. I'd worked my tail off for this so when Barry-"

"Sorry, please give Barry's full name for the record," Matthews interrupted.

"When Barack Shaheen – we call him Barry – asked me again to head out to a party with him, I finally said yes. He'd asked me before, but I always said no. My family worked so hard to get me the chances I had, like attending Wharton's, that I never wanted to risk it. And I thought Barry was my friend. What with me heading back to California and Barry going to school in Iowa, I wasn't sure if we would see each other again."

Paul sighed and stared at the ceiling, as if answers were written on the white tiles. "I knew when I saw the car, Barry wasn't "borrowing" a friend's car like he always told me. Even without the magnetic sign on the door, I recognized it as a school car. When we headed out a back gate, I should have known better. And when we entered though the same gate, after drinking and stuff – I knew."

"When you say and stuff, what do you mean?" Matthews asked, as if he didn't know the results of Paul's tox screen.

"We – well, I tried some marijuana. It made me feel sick, so I stopped. I realized at the way Barry handled it, he must be used to it, but I couldn't. It was sooner than Barry wanted to, but I said I felt lousy, so I wanted to go back. Barry told the other people he would be back after he brought the "lightweight" home."

"When we were driving down the back service road, I saw that Barry didn't have the lights on. He wouldn't put them on so that no one would notice us. Because of that, by the time we saw Alan-"

Paul sucked in his breath and made eye contact with Matthews. "I can't drive. Epilepsy. But I am pretty sure Barry overcompensated when he realized someone was on the road. We got out of the car and I recognized Alan. I started to go to help him, but Barry stopped me. Said it would be worse than if we just hit another student. The fact that we hit Jeff Tracy's kid would ruin us. I shouldn't have let him, but I let Barry convince me."

Pulling at a thread on the generic blanket, Paul sighed. "When Fermat – he's Alan's best friend and I was his Senior-mentor for Advanced Placement – first told me that Alan was missing, I should have said something. But I didn't. I was a coward."

"What made Shaheen attack you?" Matthews asked, as if he hadn't heard what the other boy had said.

"I was in the kitchen, when Barry snuck in. He had been listening from the stock room and had heard Mr. Tracy talking about Alan. I guess he heard someone say they were thinking it could be a kidnapping. Barry wanted to send a ransom demand to try and get money. He said when they found Alan's body they would assume the kidnappers had killed him. I told him that was sick and I was going to tell the truth. That even if they couldn't save Alan, at least his family would know what had happened. Next thing I know, I woke up in the walk-in freezer. I tried to get out, but the door must have been stuck."

"Actually," Matthews said, "it was locked."

Paul went as white as the sheets. "God, Barry tried to kill me. He knows I have epilepsy. He knew that no one should have been looking for me."

"You were a loose thread that he wanted snipped," the cop bluntly said. "Now, Shaheen has already blurted out enough, but the DA is going to want to know – are you willing to testify against your friend or are you going to try and play deal? Because your friend may try the same thing and you could lose."

"No deals," Paul said calmly. "Charge me with what you want, but I am going to tell the truth. I acted without the honor my family raised me to always have before. But I will not dishonor them any more."

Matthews nodded, secretly impressed by the young man's courage in the face of what could be the destruction of his future.

* * *

Fermat Hackenbacker and his father entered the lobby of Baystate Medical Center, and were promptly stonewalled in their attempts to reach the Tracys.

"C-can't you c-call J-Jeff or the boys and t-tell them we are h-here?" Brains argued.

The receptionist looked at them coldly. This was not the first person to enter and try and claim they knew the Tracys. "We are taking any messages for the Tracys. But the chief administrator made it clear – No one is to disturb the family. If you really know them, why don't you call them?"

"I f-forgot my ph-phone!" Brains exclaimed. "And y-you w-won't let me use one in h-here!"

Fermat sensed his usually calm father was about to lose it, so he decided to try something else. "M-Ma'am? A P-Paul Han was also admitted fr-from Wharton's. C-can you t-tell me how to f-find h-him?"

The receptionist failed to take heed of the note next to Paul's name and gave the boy the room number. Watching the Hackenbackers walk down the hall, she wondered if she could have been wrong. How else would that boy have known about the other Wharton's student being admitted unless he really did know Jeff Tracy's son? As another person approached the desk with a question, she simply placed the note from Brains on the small stack for the Tracys and promptly forgot about the Hackenbackers.

* * *

Virgil and John exchanged relieved glances when they realized that, at some point, their father had drifted off to sleep. They were fairly sure the man hadn't slept since well before the rescue that had seen Jack Roy's death.

Standing, Virgil helped his brother turn their father until Jeff was stretched out on the couch. As John moved to the hassock, Virgil turned the volume of the television down a bit. Frowning at the news story covering his family's misfortune Virgil thought of turning off the set but seeing Jeff stir at the change in volume made him leave it as is. Looking at his watch, Virgil sighed.

"Johnny, I'm going to go find Scott. Hopefully, he finished -" Virgil trailed off for a moment.

John grinned. "- Supposedly getting coffee and sandwiches, actually finding more space to pace."

Virgil allowed a small chuckle. "You know, when we get the Sprout home, Smother-hen is going to drive him crazy."

John shrugged. "We all will. Tough."

Shaking his head, Virgil left in search of his oldest brother. John watched him leave before turning to watch the television, which had, thankfully, turned to the latest political scandal. As the story ended, John glanced at his father. Jeff was still asleep but – well, a blanket and pillow could only help, right?

Standing up, John headed to the door. Pulling it open, he glanced back at his father to make sure the man was still asleep. It would only take a moment before he could secure what he needed from the nurses' station.

* * *

Detective Matthews was just finishing up the interview when there was a knock on the door. The officer on duty opened up and leaned in.

"Detective? There is a kid here who says he is a friend of the suspect."

Matthews went to the door and was surprised to see the Hackenbackers standing there. "Professor? And Fermat…What are you doing here?"

"P-Paul was a fr-friend," Fermat said bluntly. "A-Alan is m-my b-best friend b-but I w-wanted to see P-Paul."

Matthews was inclined to refuse them, but Paul surprised him when he spoke up. "Please, may I see Fermat? I owe him the chance to give me hell."

Stepping aside, the detective allowed the Hackenbackers entrance.

Waving softly, Fermat approached the hospital bed. Chewing at his lip, he breathed deeply before asking, "Why?"

"What part, Fermat? Why go partying with Barry? Why go along with leaving Alan? Why not say anything later?" Paul lay back and stared at the ceiling. "I was never the popular kid or a jock. I was the smart, well-behaved one. But I wanted to be popular. And hanging with Barry let me. That explained the party and the drinking. Leaving Alan and not coming forward as soon as I should have? That was cowardice. I kept trying to say I was doing it for my family but that is a lie. My family expected me to always act with honor. And I failed them."

"You won't believe me, Hackey-sack, but I was going to come forward when Barry knocked me out and locked me in the freezer. And I am going to testify, no deal. I know I'll be heading to jail but at least I'll be able to look myself in the mirror. I pray Alan will make it and be alright. His family deserves that and so does he. He's a good kid, you know? Never acts snobby and really cares about people. You got a hell of a friend there, know what I mean?"

Fermat nodded. Yeah, he knew. Looking up at his father, the younger Hackenbacker saw his father was just as concerned as he was for his friend. _Maybe, _he thought as he saw Brains worried look when he watched Paul, _Dad is worried for both of my friends._

Just then a nurse walked in. "Mr. Hackenbacker?" Both bespecled Hackenbackers turned and the woman smiled. "Gordon Tracy saw you walk by and wants to speak with you."

As the nurse held the door open, the red-headed Tracy son slipped in. "Hey, there. Why are you guys not upstairs – with -" His voice trailed off at the sight of Paul.

"Yeah, I'm the other guy who hurt your brother," Paul said calmly. "You can belt me if you want to. I deserve it."

Gordon walked up to the bed and gripped the railing as he stared at his hands. "I – I can't. Alan – I let my brother down more times than I can count. He mentioned you, you know?" Paul stared at Gordon, wide-eyed.

"He said how you were a good influence on Fermat and how nice you were when they transferred to Wharton's," Gordon explained. "I'm sorry I don't know more, but I wasn't listening real well to Allie for a while now. I've been trying to change but -" Sighing, the red-head sat in the chair the detective had just vacated.

"Did you know Alan is allergic to walnuts?"

Paul nodded in response to Gordon's question. He had to make sure not to let anything with walnuts near Alan's sundaes. The freshman hadn't ordered them often, but had been touched when Paul had shown him how he had set up the topping to avoid cross contamination.

"Alan found out in a science class at his old school but the next day was when the lab blew up." At a startled sound from Detective Matthews, Gordon glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. "It really wasn't Alan's fault but when the school administration was so quick to blame him, Dad wanted Alan out of there."

"So," Gordon sighed, "the report the school nurse would have sent to Dad didn't go but it was in his records. Alan assumed Dad knew because of the nurse at Wharton's mentioning it to Alan when they transferred there. He came home for Christmas and was pretty, well, quiet."

"Wh-what d-did you expect?" Fermat snapped. "W-with the w-way you th-three k-kept t-teasing Alan?"

Brains looked like he wanted to say something but Gordon waived him back. "Nah, Brains. The kid is right. We rode the Sprout pretty hard about that. So the boys went back to Wharton's and came home for Winter Break in February. First full day there and Alan played a bit of a prank on Fermat."

"H-he sc-scared me g-good," Fermat grinned.

"Yeah, scared you well enough to bring on an asthma attack," Gordon grumbled.

"A-and he f-felt t-t-t-t awful a-about it," Brains responded.

"It m-meant a lot that A-Alan forgot and tr-treated me n-normally," Fermat said.

Gordon nodded. "Put that way, Dad decided Alan would be beating himself up enough. He said he would talk to Alan about it but there would be no punishment. I felt it wasn't fair and that he deserved some kind of payback. So I forewarned Virg and Scott that I was spiking a pasta salad and made sure Alan was the only one to eat from it. When Al came in for dinner, he was so upset he never even looked at what he was eating. I started laughing and confessed that the kid would soon have a bad case of toilet-seat burn from the laxative I put in there. Dad was frowning but big brothers were laughing."

"Wh-which only m-made Alan feel w-worse," Fermat snapped.

Sighing, Gordon agreed. "Yeah, I know. I stopped laughing when I saw the resigned look on Alan's face. Like he thought he deserved it. Then he looked in the bowl and went pale."

"M-my h-heart almost st-stopped wh-when Alan a-asked for the epi-p-pen," Brains recalled. "H-he b-barely g-got out th-that he was al-al-al – sensitive to w-walnuts."

"Salad had them in it. Masked the taste of the laxative. So because of my warped joke, my baby brother was lying on the floor in Dad's arms, fighting to breathe." Gordon looked as if he wanted to cry. "I never did apologize. Dad gave me hell for tampering with someone's food. And if Alan hadn't already transferred, he sure would have been yanked from his old school. Dad was furious. Alan probably doesn't know it, but Dad makes sure we all have epi-pens at the ready if need be."

Paul and Gordon both looked over at Fermat who shrugged and pulled an epi-pen from his pocket protector. Brains pulled his son into a comforting hug.

Gordon smiled sadly at the interaction before turning back to Paul. "I was there when that Bozo Barry was caught. It wasn't hard to figure out where the majority of the blame for Alan being hurt lies. I guess…Well, we all do dumb stuff. For both Alan and your sakes, I hope the consequences of yours won't be, well- You know, Alan will be the first to forgive you. All you have to do is ask him."

Paul gave a small smile. "You might want to take your own advice. Alan loves you; he loves all of his family so much. Just say you are sorry and he'll probably look at you like you're nuts for even having to ask."

Before either young man could say anything else a message over the PA system made them all freeze.

**_"Code Blue, Surgical Floor. Code Blue, Surgical Floor."_**

* * *

**_A/N - Paul was never meant to be a villain. Just misguided. But he is a good kid that can be forgiven. _**

**_Thanks again to Iniysa for the loan of her story, allowedly, with my own spin on it. That the Hackenbackers forgave Alan and Jeff was satisfied with Alan knowing what he did was wrong made sense. Although, the irony of the TV verse story was awesome as well. _**

**_Sammygirl1963 said you'll be mad for the end of this chapter. Well, if you review enough...I mean, sixteen more and I will hit 200 in only 11 chapters. Think how happy that will make me. I might be inclined to post sooner, you know._**

**_More soon - CC_**


	12. This is Your Plan?

**Left By The Wayside**

**by Crimnally Charmed**

**_Disclaimer - see chapter one_**

**_Wow - Definately over 200. Yeah!!!_**

**_Oh, please take note - Under a plan to make all codes the same at hospitals, Code Blue can mean cardiac arrest or a medical emergency. _**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve - This is Your Plan?**

Jeff Tracy woke and looked around in confusion. It wouldn't be the first time he had fallen asleep on a couch but they were usually limited to the one in either of his offices (home and Tracy Towers) or "the big orange monster" as his sons had nicknamed the couch in their living room.

Well, he liked it.

Suddenly, Jeff sat upright. Alan! His youngest son was in surgery. And his other sons? Well, Jeff recalled Scott had supposedly gone for coffee and sandwiches. Gordon had freaked and declared he needed some air. But Virgil and John had remained with him. Shaking his head, the Tracy father had almost laughed. The "family doctor" and Jeff's own "shrink" would be the ones keeping an eye on him.

Twisting his body so that his legs were no longer on the couch, Jeff reached over and grabbed the remote from the coffee table so that he could increase the volume. The boys hadn't said anything so Jeff was curious if they had found this "Barry" guy that Paul Han had mentioned. Maybe there would be something on the news…

_Two students, both Seniors at Wharton Academy, had been apprehended for the hit and run accident involving billionaire Jeff Tracy's youngest son. Alan Tracy, fifteen, was a freshman at the prestigious private school and had been injured while out running in a rarely used portion of the sprawling campus. Alcohol and drugs are both believed to have been a factor._

_One of the suspects was admitted to the same hospital that Alan Tracy was admitted to with non-life threatening injuries and has not been identified. The second suspect, Barack "Barry" Shaheen of Chicago was a scholarship student. An outstanding soccer player he had received a full athletic scholarship to Crutcher College in Lineville, Iowa. Shaheen is currently at the Springfield Barracks of the Massachusetts State Police. Authorities are holding him there until a public defender becomes available tomorrow so that he can be questioned with an attorney present._

The anchor suddenly paused and switched gears. _I have just been informed that our reporter at Bayside Medical Center, Ana Nevada, has received new information on this case. Ana? What is happening there?_

An attractive young woman smiled at the camera before schooling herself into a pseudo sympathetic posture. _Erik, a source inside the hospital has given me the worse possible news. Alan Tracy, the young son of billionaire Jeff Tracy, has died. Obviously, the injuries suffered were too much and the boy died after being rushed into surgery. There has been no official confirmation of this tragedy and no word from the Tracy Family. But surely they must be devastated at yet another horrible loss for them._

The reporter continued to speak – or was it the anchor? – but Jeff couldn't hear a word over the roaring in his ears. His baby. His precious Alan was dead? Was that where his other sons had gone? Were they trying to compose themselves before coming back to tell Jeff that Alan had died?

_Oh, God! _Jeff groaned silently as he felt a terrible weight in his lungs. Suddenly, Jeff realized he was on his knees. He couldn't breathe! And there was a sharp pain in his chest.

As black spots began to dance in front of his eyes, the door opened and John walked in, carrying what seemed to be a folded blanket. John dropped his bundle to the floor and yelled, "Dad!" The last thing Jeff noted before the world went dark was John's arms around him.

* * *

Scott was frustrated and angry. For as long back as he could recall, Scott had held one title dear to his heart – Big Brother. From John to Virgil to Gordon, Scott had been the protector, the mentor, the friend.

With Alan he had been so much more.

When his mother was expecting Alan, Scott had to give up the room that was supposed to be his, as had been promised to him when they moved to the new house. The day after Alan had been born, only Scott was old enough to be allowed to visit in the Newborn Intensive Care Unit for the first few days before Alan was moved back to his mother's room. Complications when the Tracy baby was born had caused respiratory problems and Alan had needed the careful monitoring the NICU provided.

But Scott could still feel the petite hand that had grasped at the finger Scott had thrust towards Alan in the incubator the pediatrician had ordered for the first forty-eight hours of life. The baby hadn't just grasped his brother's finger at that moment – he had clutched Scott's heart in his tiny hand. And that hadn't changed in fifteen years.

The oldest Tracy son knew their father was feeling guilt and pain, that he had never meant to hurt Alan like he had. But Jeff had been the only person Scott could blame. So he had.

And now? Now there were two young men, students who had chosen to drink and drive. By their choice, these two creeps had endangered Alan's life. The last time that had happened, the people responsible – the Hood and his goons – were quickly sent to jail. Once Alan was safe, Scott hadn't wanted Alan to go back to Wharton's. He had wanted Alan to remain on the Island. It hadn't been hard to persuade Jeff to home school the teenager. But when Scott talked to Jeff later, he had been upset to hear the decision that had been made.

"_Scott, Alan is right. He was here on the Island when the Hood came. And now he has come to see that there is more to life. Alan wants to go back to Wharton's. He wants to try out for track, focus more on his studies – Scott, Allie wants to do his best and that is all I've ever asked of him. How can we ask him to stay here and be stifled?"_

"_Dad," Scott cried out. "We can keep him safe. Can Wharton's?"_

"_One of the reasons we selected Wharton's was its security, son."_

"_But what if the Hood escapes? What if he finds out where Alan goes to school? Brains said his goons went through the computer system. What if they know where Alan can be found?"_

_Jeff looked sad for a moment as he picked up a picture of Lucy, holding a baby Alan and surrounded by their other four sons. "Scooter – if Alan remains here, the Hood wins. Only instead of him holding Alan prisoner, we'll be the ones holding him captive by our fears."_

_Kyrano entered at that moment, bringing in some coffee and setting it in front of Jeff. As he poured a cup, he softly spoke._

"_Young Alan is like a bird, Mr. Tracy. He soars high in the clouds and flies fierce and fast. But in the end, he will return to the nest. Even when he wishes a nest of his own, it will be near where the hatchling knows best." Seeing Jeff and Scott drinking their coffee, Kyrano moved to the patio and sighed. Smiling in resignation, he gestured out to the patio. _

"_Besides, if Alan is at school, Onaha and I will sleep easier."_

_As Kyrano left the room, the Tracys set down their coffee cups and moved towards the patio. Both men frowned as they watched Alan and Tin Tin sitting by the pool, laughing and holding hands. _

"_I think I liked it better when they were always fighting," Scott grumbled._

_Jeff nodded. "Alan is heading back to Wharton's. I'm too young to be a grandfather." Eyeing Scott, he grinned. "Well, maybe not. Just not by Alan."_

Scott sighed as he entered the cafeteria. He had said he was getting food, and damn it, he would.

But just as he reached for a sandwich in the cooler, an overhead page snagged Scott's attention.

"_Code Blue, Surgical Floor. Code Blue, Surgical Floor."_

* * *

Virgil had been waiting by the elevator, having decided that he should head out to find the cafeteria in order to find Scott. Unfortunately, they had been instructed to keep their cell phones when outside the waiting room. Scott had doubtlessly kept his phone off as Virgil had been unable to reach him earlier.

The elevator "_dinged"_ and the doors began to slide open. Virgil stepped towards the elevator only to freeze at the sound of John's voice.

"_Dad!" _John yelled out.

Icy claws tore at Virgil's heart. A blasted missile had nearly blown him to bits on Thunderbird Five and John had still remained calm. Scared, but calm. The second Tracy son always joked that yelling was so common in their emotional family that no one noticed when you did it, so why strain your vocal cords?

So what could scare John so badly to make him yell like that? Virgil ran back through the hallway, terrified at what he could find back in the waiting room.

Several medical personnel had also heard John's cries and met Virgil at the door. The middle Tracy son's eyes went wide at the sight of Jeff Tracy collapsed on the floor, held up in John's arms. When John spotted Virgil, he relaxed slightly.

"Virg! Thank God. I stepped out for a second to grab a blanket for Dad. He was still asleep on the couch. When I came back, he was falling to the floor, clutching his chest. Virg, I think he had a heart attack."

An orderly snatched up the wall phone and called the operator. "Activate Code Blue for the surgical floor, Waiting Room D, STAT."

John was pulled away from their father, protesting all the way as the medical personnel lifted Jeff onto a gurney they had brought into the room. Virgil grabbed hold of John's arm to keep him still. A surgical resident leaned over Jeff, checking his vitals. With a curious look, the resident turned to the staff.

"Take him to recovery room seven. The operating room next to it is being remodeled but all the monitoring equipment is there." Turning to the brothers, he nodded. "I'm Dr. Littlefield. Does your father have any allergies or medical conditions we should be aware of?"

"No," Virgil said calmly. "No problem with meds and healthier than men half his age. The only complaint his doctor ever has is Dad drinks too much coffee. He doesn't smoke; he rarely has alcohol and gets plenty of exercise."

Dr. Littlefield nodded. "It may not be a heart attack, but if it is, we'll transfer your father to the CICU. Let's get him on a monitor first, alright?"

Somewhere in the background, the brothers could hear an anonymous voice call out - "_Code Blue, Surgical Floor. Code Blue, Surgical Floor."_

* * *

Gordon felt as if it had been his heart that stopped when he heard the overhead page. Rationally, he knew a code blue being called on the surgical floor wasn't necessarily going to have any connection with the fact that Alan was currently being operated on up there. A reasonable man would calmly make his excuses, get up and go make sure that Alan's surgery was proceeding as expected.

_Screw reason._

Jumping to his feet, Gordon fled the room as if on fire, frantic to reach the fourth floor and verify that Alan hadn't been snatched from them.

Back in the room, Fermat blindly reached for the chair Gordon had just vacated. As his father stood by, helpless, the younger boy burst into tears. The stress from all that had happened had reached a breaking point and Fermat had shattered under the strain.

Kneeling beside his son, Brains pulled his only child into a fierce embrace. "W-we don't that it's A-Alan, son. We d-don't know." As Fermat continued to weep, Detective Matthews and Paul Han exchanged sad glances, aware that the not knowing was the worst part.

* * *

John and Virgil had been told to remain outside the room their father had been brought to. So when both of their brothers burst into the hallway, one from each of the stairwells, they could see their immediate approach.

"John – Virgil -" Scott gasped, the combination of stress and exertion having worn him down. "What happened?"

"Is it Alan?" Gordon asked fearfully.

John shook his head, hours of worry of first one family member and now another having caught up to him. As he slid to the floor and rested his head on his knees, John whispered, "No, Al is fine, as far as we know."

When John did not continue, the other two brothers looked at Virgil expectantly.

"It's Dad," Virgil answered solemnly. "John and I had both stepped out of the waiting room and when John came back it was to see Dad collapsing, clutching his chest. It – it might be a heart attack. Scotty," the middle son looked up at his oldest brother as tears welled up in his eyes, "we can't lose Dad, too. We just can't. We're not ready."

Pulling Virgil into a tight embrace, Scott held his brother protectively. Seeing Gordon sit down next to John and offer the comfort they had always freely given each other, Scott sent up a prayer.

_Please, God. You took our mother when we still needed her so much. Well, we still need Dad. And if Dad dies, Alan will never get over the guilt. Please, not our dad, not yet. Haven't we given back enough? Can't we get a break on this one? Please, God, please…_

Sliding down to the floor as well, still holding onto Virgil, the four brothers sat in a tight circle, tears falling without shame as they fought their fears together.

It was the Tracy way.

* * *

_**A/N - And another Tracy falls to the keystrokes of Criminally Charmed...**_

**_Alan - OMG! Did you kill Dad?_**

**_CC - Alan, Alan, Alan - No death fics, remember?_**

**_Gordon - Yeah, just torture and maiming._**

**_CC - Gordon! How nice to meet you. And we in fan fiction prefer to call them "hurt/comfort" stories. Physical and/or psychological pain, followed by family fluff. Yum. Love fluff. Especially with peanut butter on some gluten free bread. _**

**_Alan - See, I told you - she's nuts!_**

**_Gordon - (grins) - Oh, I don't know...CC seems like she would be a very creative, free spirit._**

**_CC- Gordon, I'm nearly twice your age and married._**

**_Gordon - Hey, remember that cop I hooked up with for a time in the Tracy Family series. She was older. And we had, um, fun._**

**_CC - She was around ten years your senior and divorced. I'm MARRIED._**

**_Gordon - Yeah, but is it working?_**

**_CC - Yes. (Glares)_**

**_Alan - Wow. Gordon. You ticked off CC. _**

**_CC - Alan, that is not a good thing. I get mad and bad things happen._**

**_Alan - Like what?_**

**_CC - Well, I was cranky - just cranky, mind you - when you flat lined. Do you really want to tick me off?_**

**_Alan (looks scared) - SCOTT!!!_**

_Scott runs in, breathless. _

**_Scott - Allie - what is it?_**

**_Alan - Gordon is ticking CC off and she is gonna get mad. Bad things happen when she gets mad._**

**_Scott (growls) - Gordon! What have we told you about making the ff writers mad!_**

_**Gordon - Um...See Ya! **(takes off running, Scott chasing after him)_

**_John - Told you that would work. So much better than locking him in a closet._**

**_Alan - John! Are you HELPING her?_**

**_CC - Alan, John is just looking out for your best interests. Now that they are gone, why don't we watch a dvd. Hmmm. Relax, maybe pick up a few ideas. A Muppet movie or Friday the 13th?_**

**_Tracys exchange horrifed looks before saying in one voice - Muppets!!!_**

**_CC - Sigh. OK. But you make the popcorn._**


	13. Only to Be Used in Case of Emergency

**Left by the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**Disclaimer - see chapter one (that would be the chapter before two)**

**After 225 reviews, I am taking that as a sign you like the story and want me to continue. Or are using the review reply feature to try and track me through the internet so as to bump me off. All I can say is...Not likely, buddy! **

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen – Only To Be Used in Case of Emergency**

It felt like hours but it had only been fifteen minutes that the Tracy brothers had been sitting on the floor. At that time a nurse came out, calling, "Mr. Tra-cy?" before looking around in confusion.

Standing suddenly, Scott faced the woman as his brothers all helped each other up.

"I'm Scott Tracy and these are my brothers. Is our father going to be alright?"

The nurse gave a small smile and held open the door. "Dr. Littlefield would like to speak with all of you."

With no small amount of trepidation, the brothers entered the room. The sight in front of them startled but delighted the entire family.

"Dad!" Gordon called out as he ran over to the bed. Throwing himself into his father's arms, Gordon hugged his father close.

Jeff gave a bittersweet smile as he pressed a kiss into Gordon's auburn hair. There were times that Gordon acted younger than Alan. But after all the strain of recent days, he couldn't blame his fourth son for whatever comfort he could seek.

Looking at the monitors as he approached the bed, Virgil quickly sought out the attending physician.

"Dr. Littlefield, these are our brothers, Gordon and Scott," Virgil explained as he gestured at his siblings.

"Hey," Littlefield said as he adjusted an IV that was hooked up to the elder Tracy. As he finished, the doctor looked at John and gave a small smile. "Well, you'll be glad to know your father did _not _have a heart attack."

"He didn't?" John asked in surprise. "But -"

"John," Jeff sighed, "apparently, I had a panic attack."

"A panic attack?" Scott asked dubiously. "Dad, after everything you have been through in your life, do you really think that was all it was. Maybe we should get a specialist up here -"

"Mr. Tracy," the doctor snapped, only to step back when all five Tracy men looked at him. "Um, well -"

Gordon gave a small chuckle from his father's side. "Doctor, you better make it Scott, John, Virgil and Gordon. Only the old guy needs "Mr. Tracy" from you," he joked.

"I'll give you old guy," Jeff muttered.

Dr. Littlefield nodded. "I am only a resident but my residency is in cardio-thoracic surgery. Trust me, I can read an EKG and I ordered an echo. Both came back clean. No MI here. But -" he added as he rounded on Jeff. "Cut back on the caffeine and try and lower your stress. I don't know what is going on in your life -"

"Dr. Littlefield," Jeff broke in. "In the last few months, I have run a multi-billion dollar corporation, been consulted for various government and charitable organizations, and dealt with life in general. Don't think money cushions that. If anything, it makes it worse, because you feel like you are in a fishbowl. Back in April, there was -" Jeff saw his sons freeze, concerned he was about to spill their family secret.

"Back in April, there was an incident at my son, John's, lab." Gesturing towards his second son, Jeff nodded before continuing. "Few people know the details, and I expect it to remain that way."

Dr. Littlefield nodded, offended that the man would accuse him of betraying doctor-patient confidentiality.

"It was a matter of industrial espionage. The individuals responsible were apprehended and the details have been kept quiet. But John and Alan both suffered injuries." Jeff had a far away look in his eyes, caught up in the nightmare that was the Spring Break from Hell.

"At first I thought it was only John we had to help. Then he was alright and I discovered Alan was in danger. My youngest could have died and I couldn't get to him in time. Luckily, a friend who was there was able to save Alan. And now, someone has hurt my child again. And again, I couldn't protect him. Tell me, how well would you be dealing with it?"

"Not that well, Mr. Tracy," Dr. Littlefield said. "So I really feel better about putting that sedative in your IV."

The four Tracy sons turned to the doctor and then back to their father, stunned. It was at that moment that they realized Jeff's eyes were beginning to droop.

"Alan," Jeff murmured as the medicine began to take hold. "You said Alan was alive."

"Yes, Mr. Tracy," the doctor responded. "When you first regained consciousness and told me what you had heard, I sent a message to OR 1. Dr. Axtell sent back word that the surgery is still on-going but is proceeding on schedule."

"Scott," Jeff said softly, reaching a hand out for his oldest son.

"Yeah, Dad," Scott answered, all of his earlier anger at his father washed away in his relief that Jeff would live.

"Find out who did that. Someone on the news said Alan was dead. I – I need to know who would do that. And did they find the person who was driving the car that hit Alan?"

"They did, Dad," John answered for his brother. "He's been arrested."

"Yeah," Gordon grinned. "And Scott may have broken his nose."

"Scott," Jeff admonished softly. "You know I don't believe in unnecessary violence."

"Dad," Virgil answered gruffly. "The jerk didn't care and he compared Alan to garbage."

"Oh," Jeff said as he drifted off. "In that case, good job, Scooter."

* * *

Brains had finally calmed Fermat down, when Detective Matthews excused himself for a moment. The father stood watching as Paul calmly talked to his young son and came to a painful realization. _There but for the grace of God, go I. Or at least, my child._

"P-P-Paul," the scientist asked quietly asked, "h-have y-you g-got a l-l-lawyer?"

Paul shook his head. "No, sir. I was allowed to call my family. But when my father offered to get a lawyer for me, I knew he would have to get a mortgage on either the house or the store. My dad has a small organic food store. And I have three younger siblings, plus my dad took in my cousin three years ago when her parents died in a house fire. I can't risk all their futures. Not when I'm guilty. Detectives Matthews said I'll get a public defender, so I guess that will do."

Frowning, Brains knew that the public defenders office was full of underpaid, overworked, inexperienced attorneys. The chances of any of them giving Paul a decent defense were slim to none. Nodding at his son, Professor Hackenbacker stepped out and confronted the detective out in the hallway.

Matthews hung up the phone just as Hiram Hackenbacker stepped into the hallway. "D-Detective M-Matthews? C-can you g-give m-me the n-name of a g-good d-d-defensive a-a-a lawyer?"

* * *

Teresa Delgado stomped out to where Ana Nevada was broadcasting, flanked by several security officers. "Excuse me," she asked sharply. "Who gave you the information of the status of one of our patients?"

The reporter smiled – with an eerie resemblance to a barracuda – at the administrator. "And you are?"

"Teresa Delgado," she snapped. Whipping her head towards the camera man, Teresa growled, "Turn that camera off!" Glaring at Ana, "Now, I want to know who your source is!"

"Sorry," Ana simpered. "First amendment rights, freedom of the press. Surely you have heard of that?"

"Patient privacy, HIPAA laws, surely you have heard of that!" the woman snapped back.

"The people have the right to know," Ana Nevada began.

"Not a damn thing about my kid brother," a voice entered.

Virgil Tracy stomped towards the reporter, with Gordon walking firmly behind him. "Ms. Delgado?" he asked politely. When she nodded, he continued. "My brothers Scott and John are waiting for you in your office. They have something they need to run past you."

As the administrator turned and headed back into the hospital, one security officer followed her while the other stayed to watch the brothers. Virgil made sure that that the reporter was watching him while Gordon played with a small hand-held device.

"My brother is not dead, Ms. Nevada and we want to know who told you he was," Virgil snapped.

"Sorry, Virgil," Ana simpered, "but…"

"You make me sick," Virgil growled. "People have fought and died for the Constitutional rights of this country. And then people like you pervert them. Now, my fifteen year old brother is still in surgery. He is alive. God willing, he will remain that way. The last thing my family needs is vultures like you acting like we are carrion for you to devour. Stay back. You and your network may have good lawyers but I promise you, the Tracys have better ones."

When the brothers turned and walked back towards the hospital, Ana looked at her camera-man, excited. "Did you get that? Please, say you got that."

"Camera was rolling," the man murmured as he tried to review the footage. "What the hell?" he exclaimed. He looked up at Ana.

"Everything is a blur. Like someone erased everything."

Gordon smiled from the doorway, as Virgil tugged on his sleeve. "Gordo?" the middle son asked. "Why did you have me confront them? You know Dad hates us being news stories."

Looking like the cat that ate the canary, the red-head grinned. He held up the device he had been playing with. "You know the anti-filming devices on the 'Birds?" Gordon asked softly. When Virgil grinned, the fourth son continued. "Well, Brains had been playing with a hand-held version. I grabbed it just in case we had any media issues. From the look on their faces, I guess we get to tell Brains it passed the field test."

For the first time since the nightmare had begun, Virgil allowed himself to have a small laugh. Leave it to Gordon to find a method to his own version of the madness.

* * *

Scott Tracy was pacing back and forth in the Chief Administrator's office. As he made the seventy-eighth trip across the office – John had counted – his brother spoke up.

"Scott, you are making me dizzy."

Glaring at his sibling, Scott ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the desk. "John, what are we doing here? Dad is hooked up to a monitor, Alan is in surgery and Virgil is off somewhere being led astray by our own personal demon child. This is the last place we should be."

John shook his head. "No, Scott, this is where we need to be."

"And can I ask why?"

The brothers had been so busy arguing, they had not noticed Teresa Delgado enter her office. Stepping up to the brothers, she raised an elegant eyebrow.

Standing up, John spoke with a bluntness that those who knew him would discern as being caused by his exhaustion, both mental and physical. "Ms. Delgado, someone may have accessed my brother's records. At least, they gave out data they should not have. The network claimed that it was a source inside your hospital. Our father is lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to a monitor. While he did not have a heart attack, his panic attack was caused by the false report of Alan's death."

"Mr. Tracy," the administrator responded, maneuvering around Scott to claim her seat. "Unless the reporter will give up her source, I really don't know what we can do. I have spoken with our legal representatives. They are currently filing motions to have the media forced off of any access to the hospital, but the entrance they are at now is on city property, not hospital property. In addition, our lawyers are asking for the reporter to give up her source but they aren't hopeful. It's an election year and no one wants to be seen as denying Constitutional rights."

"What if I gave you a way to find the source?" John asked. When both Scott and Ms. Delgado looked at John in confusion, the blonde grinned.

"Ms. Delgado, I am known as an astronomer. But as my father could tell you, the only time I got in trouble when I was younger was when I was caught hacking into the school computer when I was nine." Looking askance at his brother, John shrugged. "I learned in the future to never get caught."

Scott smiled for the first time that day. "OK, geek-boy – what are you going to do?"

"With Ms. Delgado's permission, I plant a Trojan horse in the BMC computer system. Anyone that access' information on Alan, it gets downloaded. I can also see what they access, at what time and from where. Based on what I saw before we came down here, a nurse named Linda Bailey accessed Alan's file."

"Linda Bailey is on Trauma Team Alpha," Delgado argued. "She is in your brother's surgery."

Turning to Scott, John nodded. "Yeah, personnel ID in the hospital activates when in restricted areas like the operating rooms. She has been there all along. That was the nurse who told us we had to leave Alan's room earlier. But next to Alan's name were an S and a D. This indicated his family was waiting in Surgical Waiting Room D. Someone unfamiliar with finer details may have thought the D meant deceased."

"So," Scott answered thoughtfully, "we are looking for someone who could move around unnoticed, has some limited computer access and something to gain."

"Money, more than likely," said the administrator bluntly. Looking over at John, she asked, "And do I want to know how you accessed our system?"

Shrugging, John gave the woman a disarming smile.

"That," Scott said bluntly, "mean no, you really don't wanna know."

Shaking her head, Teresa Delgado decided he was right. She really didn't want to know.

* * *

Heading up to their father's room, the brothers met by the elevators before heading down the hall. They had almost reached the recovery room Jeff was in when the Stan waved them down.

"Hey, Dr. Axtell sent word that he wants to talk with you," the orderly said. "But none of you were in the waiting room."

Virgil sighed. "Our dad collapsed. He's being monitored in here," he gestured towards the door.

Dr. Littlefield walked up to join the group at that time. "Mr. Tracy should be waking up soon. You can send Dr. Axtell in to here."

Stan nodded and went in search of the surgeon. Looking at each other, the brothers nodded and followed the doctor into the recovery room. Hopefully, their father would wake up and there would be good news for all of them regarding Alan.

Because they really couldn't handle the alternative.

* * *

A/N - See? No evil cliffie. How did you like Gordon's prank? And remember, in Criminally Charmed stories, good guys win, bad guys lose in some way. I don't kill everyone. Just a lot of them. Off today, so hope to get more writing done. No part time job for the next few days as the store flooded. A lot of New Hampshire did that. Where are the Thunderbirds when you need them?

Oh, yeah. I made Alan get run over by a car so they are with him. Sorry...More soon, CC


	14. I Think This Counts as an Emergency

**Left by the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed **

_**Disclaimer - Chapter One, says it all**_

**_Do you have any idea how excited this is making me? Will try and keep updating, but life is a tad crazy, so I doubt any more three a week. Two is a good goal. And this one is a tad short but it ended in a good spot._**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen – I think this counts as an emergency**

Dr. William Axtell stepped out of the surgical suite, rolling his neck to relieve the stiff muscles from the grueling surgery. Sudden hands reached around his neck and began to massage the knotted tendons.

"Ah, Linda, you'd make a good wife, you know that?"

The nurse smiled as she continued to massage the stiff muscles. "You've been telling me that for fifteen years."

Dr. Axtell was about to respond when Dr. Pierce stepped out, whipping off her mask and surgical cap. As she started the water in the sink and tossed her scrubs into a laundry bin, the younger woman grinned. "You two are the worst kept secret in the world. What don't you just get married and drop the twenty year affair?"

Still grinning, Shana patted down her hands and went to dictate the surgical report, after reminding the senior surgeon that she had done the before surgery briefing, so it was up to him to go talk to Alan Tracy's family now.

Dr. Axtell and his nurse just looked at each other before starting to laugh. "So – so much for be-being discrete all th-these years," Linda laughed as tears poured down her face.

The surgeon was unable to speak at all, laughter stealing his breath away. He had considered proposing to Linda several times but had been extremely commitment shy. And then seventeen years ago, his best friend, Jordan Pierce, and his wife, Cassie, had been killed in a car accident, leaving their physically and emotionally traumatized daughter in his care. Bill had been afraid of upsetting Shana by bringing anyone new into their small circle. But now he could see that Shana had expanded their family to most of the hospital years ago. And, luckily, he was long past having to be "checking on a patient" – his euphemism for spending the night at Linda's when Shana was younger.

After William Axtell gave his long time nurse/lover another quick kiss, he headed towards the surgical waiting room, anxious to discuss the case they had completed with the patient's family. At that point, he might be able to consider his own "family" business.

* * *

"Dammit," Scott grumbled, "What is taking them so long!"

"Language," Jeff murmured as the sedative began to wear off and he regained consciousness.

John leaned closer to his father. "Dad, you're awake. How do you feel?"

Jeff stretched slightly in the bed and gave a small smile, trying to comfort his sons. "Better. Just don't get any ideas from this."

Virgil chuckled. "I don't know, Dad. This may be a good idea how to get you to rest at times."

Glowering at his middle son, Jeff knew his son was joking.

Or at least he _hoped_ Virgil was joking.

* * *

Dr. Axtell stopped outside of Surgical Waiting Room D, puzzled. The door was open, the television was left on a news channel, and a blanket, still folded, lay on the floor. But there was no sign of the Tracy family. Shana had told him how stressed the family had been for information. Hadn't one of the surgical residents even contacted them for status?

"Yo, Ax-Man!"

Rolling his eyes at the cheerful greeting, Dr. Axtell turned to see Stan walking towards him. _If he wasn't the best damn orderly EVER…_

"Mr. Tracy collapsed," Stan said bluntly. Seeing the concerned look on the surgeon's face, the orderly quickly continued.

"He's gonna be alright. Dr. Littlefield appropriated recovery room seven, since its op is still being renovated. Hooked him to a monitor and ran a few tests. Stress just got to him is all."

Axtell breathed a sigh of relief. He had never met Jeff Tracy and the life and times of the rich and famous had never been of any interest to him. However, this hospital had been were he had spent most of his adult life and Jeff Tracy, living legend, dying in Baystate Medical Center would be very bad for their image. Worse, the death of his father, or even a serious medical condition, could be detrimental to the well-being of Dr. Axtell's patient.

"And the other members of the family?" Dr. Axtell asked as they began to walk towards Recovery Room Seven.

"All of the Tracys are in there," Stan answered. "And Mr. Tracy should be awake by now. Dr. Littlefield said to get you so you can brief them on the kid's condition."

Nodding, Dr. Axtell took a deep breath, readying himself to face the family. He never liked this part of his job.

* * *

Barry was still angry. "Hey," he snapped at a passing officer. "Can't I make a call?"

The officer looked disgusted but he wasn't going to be the one that some ambulance chaser would claim had denied the son of a bitch his "civil rights". Punching in a code, he unlocked the cell and escorted the prisoner out. Pushing Sheehan into a chair, the officer handed the younger man the phone receiver.

"Give me the number and I will dial it. The sooner you're done, the sooner I can get real work done than babysitting your sorry ass."

Barry glared at the officer but then focused on his phone call. The officer had begun to do some paperwork in order to give the suspect some semblance of privacy.

"_Hello?"_

Sighing with relief, Barry answered. "Dad. Dad, I am -"

"_A disgrace to this family," _Joseph Shaheen responded. Barry stilled at the utter contempt in his father's voice as the older man continued.

"_Do you think I don't know what you did? Wharton's called to say you had been expelled, less than a week before you were due to graduate. You had everything going for you, you idiot. And you blew it. Drunk driving, using drugs, and a hit and run. You wanted to be famous kid? Well, you succeeded. Reporters have been calling non-stop, your mother was told by the bank to use her vacation time and the city told me that I was on "paid leave while matters settled'. We had to pull Willie out of high school and Hil called in tears from college. Seems like no one wants to be around the older sister of a murderous coward."_

"But Dad -" Barry said, tears clogging his throat.

The older man interrupted. _"What we provided for you was never good enough. You kept trying to show how much better you were. Well, you are certainly gonna be remembered. Your mother is in hysterics, I had to get your Aunt Ellen to call in a prescription for her."_

A single tear ran down Barry's face as his last hope evaporated.

"_Don't expect us to pay a penny for some lawyer for you. You did the crime, you can do the time. And if that boy dies, then you are dead to me as well."_

Barry held the phone for a moment, listening to the sound of the dial tone echoing across the miles. He had never been close to his family, having always felt he was meant for something better. He had never seen that that had been the Shaheens' goals. Joseph and Marie Shaheen had worked hard, providing their children with clean clothes, decent food and an education. Hillary was attending a small college outside Chicago and living with friends while working weekends as a waitress. And Willie was only a Freshman, the same age as Alan Tracy. The irony of what Barry should have felt if the situation was reversed was completely lost on the eighteen year old.

After he was led back to his cell, Barry leaned against the wall, grumbling softly, "I didn't need them anyways."

* * *

The Tracys turned at the sound of the door opening but said nothing as Stan led another man – a doctor? – towards them. The question of the man's identity was answered when he began to speak.

"I'm Dr. Axtell. Mr. Tracy?" Jeff nodded while the brothers gave a small shrug, before finding seats – Scott and Virgil in chairs, John and Gordon on Jeff's bed.

"We completed Alan's surgery. His spleen was easily repaired and the lung is remaining inflated. The broken rib lost a small amount of bone but it was something we were able to work with. The important thing was that we found all the fragments. Now, our chief neurologist has examined Alan's skull fracture and the drain was successful. The swelling has gone down and his EEG looks good."

The Tracys were relieved, knowing that meant Alan's brain activity was good and most of his serious injuries were being treated.

Dr. Axtell had given the Tracys a moment to absorb the information before continuing. "Both the chest tube and the stent in his head have been removed. We will be keeping him on the vent for now in order to give his body time to heal. Once he wakes up, we'll remove Alan's tube, if it hasn't already occurred."

Turning to Dr. Littlefield, the surgeon gestured to Jeff. "Brian, can Mr. Tracy get out of bed yet?"

The resident looked at Jeff before turning back to Dr. Axtell. "When will Alan be moved to his own room?"

Examining his notes, Axtell was thoughtful before answering. "Alan will be in recovery – and no, no visitors in recovery – for another hour. We'll move him into Adolescent Critical Care then. He doesn't need ICU but he does need careful monitoring. I'll send Stan to get you when Alan is in his room."

"Fine," Dr. Littlefield agreed. "I'll make sure there is a recliner in the room. The only way I will discharge Mr. Tracy is if he agrees to rest in Alan's room."

When Jeff looked to argue, John covered his father's mouth with a hand. Smiling at the doctors, he spoke up. "Don't worry, docs. Dad will follow orders. We'll make sure of it."

Stan spoke up. "I'll snag room nine in ACC. It is usually a double but if we remove the second bed, it should have plenty of room for the watchdogs."

"In addition," Dr. Axtell continued, "ACC has more security. It should help with the media. Then again, the fourth estate is nothing if not creative."

Turning back to the orderly, the surgeon addressed him. "Stan, take care of the room and anything needed. We'll page you when Alan is ready to transfer and you can get the Tracys." That being said, Dr. Axtell left.

Dr. Littlefield looked at Jeff critically. "OK, I am going to run a few quick checks and then you can get dressed. Um, do you have another shirt?" When Jeff looked startled, the resident shrugged.

"We kind of cut off your other shirt."

Glaring at his sons when they tried – and failed – to hold back their chuckles, Jeff asked John, (Well, once his second born had removed his hand.) "Do you have my ready bag?"

"It's in the rental," John answered. "I'll go get it."

"I'll come with you, Johnny," Gordon said. "We can snag the Hackenbackers on the way back."

"They're here?" Scott asked.

"Uh, yeah," Gordon answered. Looking at John, he whispered, "I'll explain once we are out of the at-risk family members hearing."

Knowing the family was stressed about Alan, the red-head wasn't sure they would appreciate that the Hackenbackers were visiting with, and had forgiven, one of the Seniors responsible for Alan's injuries.

He knew Scott wouldn't understand Gordon forgiving Paul. At least not yet.

* * *

_**A/N - So, things SEEM to be getting better. You know, this was supposed to be a seven or eight chapter story, with a "next year" ending. Oh, you may still get that, but I have been inspired to give great details, creating new OCs and complications. Ah, life is good...**_

**_Alan - Good? _**

**_CC - Well, you are out of surgery. That's better._**

**_Virgil - Yeah, Alan, you are out of surgery._**

**_Alan - Virg, don't agree with her._**

**_CC - Virgil! Nice to meet you. Ya know, I think Little Miss Bump has a bit of a crush on you._**

**_Virgil - (frowns) What, she believes in cruel to be kind? You only hurt the ones you love? I've read her work._**

**_CC - (sniffs) Yes, our little girl has really come into her own in the hurt/ comfort department. I am so proud of her. Hurting you guys comes easy to her. (shrugs) She's a Brit. They are good at that._**

**_Alan - So what's your excuse?_**

**_CC - Stress management. We've been through this. And Virg? Scott needs you to help with Gordon. He was trying to get me to let him sing to Alan instead of you._**

**_Alan - What? You want me to flatlne again?_**

**_CC - Nope. I have other plans. (Makes a shooing motion) - OK, Virg, head off and find your brothers._**

**_Alan - (Nervous) Um, CC. Am I safe alone with you?_**

**_CC - For the moment. Hey, you don't think I made Barry sympathetic, did you? I didn't mean to, but Sammygirl1963 thought it was. To me, it was showing that his actions are hurting his own family - one of his arguments to Paul, if you remember - and he can still only think of himself. Not that he is hurting his parents and brothers, but that they are not jumping to help him._**

**_Alan - Well, my dad always says that if you are truly sorry and want to be redeemed, you can be. And I don't think Barry is feeling that way. I sure am not about to forgive him._**

**_CC - What about Paul?_**

**_Alan - Huh. I don't know. Probably. I mean, I'm gonna live, he wanted to help, and...Am I going to walk again?_**

**_CC - Um, no committment from the author. Well, I mean. Oh, heck. Maybe. Depends. Probably._**

**_John - CC, are you scaring Alan again?_**

**_CC - Yep._**

**_John - Well...OK._**

**_Alan - JOHN!_**

**_John - Alan, she makes it alright in the end. Right, CC?_**

**_CC - Probably. Now, how about we sit back, relax and have a bit of cocoa and gluten free chocolate cake?_**

**_John - Chocolate?_**

**_Alan (shakes his head) - Uh, oh. CC knows your Kryptonite, Johnny boy._**

**_John smiles as he sips the cocoa. - Hmmm. Allie, raspberry flavored cocoa._**

**_Alan (takes a sip) - OK. But...Dang, this is good. But Scott will be back by the next conversation, right?_**

**_CC - Maybe. C'mon guys. You're on the movie channel. Maybe I'll be inspired._**

**_Alan (whispering to his brother) - John! She gets inspired by watching the Hood. This is bad._**

**_John - Hmm. But this cake is awesome, Alan._**

**_Alan (takes a bite) - Yeah, it is._**

**_CC - (grins) - Dang, I am good._**


	15. Grow Up

**Left By the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - SEE CHAPTER ONE**_

**_Winding down? Or is this just the seventh inning stretch. As I can hear Sweet Caroline playing, I would wager...Oh, you don't get that? It's a Red Sox thing. The seventh inning stretch at Fenway Park, the whole whole ballpark singing a Neil Diamond song. Not big on gatherings like that. But I do like going to our minor league park. Parking in Boston can cost almost as much as Tom and I pay for three tickets, parking, and food. New Englanders are a tad strange when it comes to game time food. You can get hot dogs, fries, nachos, clam chowder...No, I am not kidding. Opening day at Fishercat Stadium here in New Hampshire can be a tad cold. We've had opening day postponed due to SNOW. Hot chocolate and clam chowder often outsells burgers and beer two to one!_**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen – Grow up**

Gordon pulled his father's ready bag out of the back of the SUV. It had taken the two brothers almost fifteen minutes to get to the basement of the parking garage, which was set aside for the valet parking service at the hospital.

"Hey, John," the red-head called out to his brother. "Should we grab all the ready bags or just Dad's?"

John looked up from where he had been pulling out Brains' belongings from the back seat and thought about the matter for a moment before answering. "No. We can run down and get stuff as needed. Based on how long Alan will be here -"

After his voice trailed off for a moment, John pulled out his I-Phone and sent a message. "We'll have Ann-Marie pick up some belongings for each of us from the penthouse in New York. The only one who doesn't keep belongings there is Alan, but we can retrieve his stuff from Wharton's and that will do until we get home."

"Johnny," Gordon said softly. When he felt his brother's eyes on him, he continued.

"Do you think Alan will walk again? Dr. Axtell didn't mention his back at all when he was reviewing the surgery."

Setting down Brains' bag, John hurried to Gordon's side and pulled his brother into his arms. At times like that, he remembered just how young Gordon was. Only five and a half years older than Alan, the fourth Tracy son couldn't even legally buy a drink yet.

"Gordo, the first surgeon, Dr. Pierce, said that they wouldn't know what Alan's full condition was until he woke up. That there was too much swelling to get an accurate view of any spinal damage. The fact that Dr. Axtell didn't mention it to us was a good sign. It means that they don't know anything new. We have to believe in the kid. Alan is stronger than we like to think."

"Younger siblings are stronger than we like to believe," Gordon almost whispered, causing John to pull back and look at him oddly. Giving a small smile, Gordon explained.

"I met a little boy earlier. He had been in a car accident with his mother and the father wasn't dealing well with it, I guess. He was waiting for his big brother to show and deal with everything. I held him while he cried himself to sleep. Then the brother, a marine, showed up. The older brother – his name was Trevor – said that younger siblings are stronger than we like to believe." Tears filled Gordon's eyes when he softly said, "The little boy's name was Allen."

John hugged Gordon once more before pulling apart. As he reached back and grabbed Brains' bag, John smiled. "Sounds like that Allen is in good hands. Let's go take care of our Alan."

Waiting for Gordon to pick up their father's bag and lock the SUV back up, John cocked his head and looked puzzled. "Hey, you said you know where the Hackenbackers are. What was the big secret?"

"Well," Gordon spoke with slight trepidation. "No big secret. But I wasn't sure how the others would deal with the fact that they were visiting Paul Han in his hospital room."

"Paul Han? Now where do I know that name from?" John mused as they headed back towards the security elevator, pulling out the pass key that the head of security had given them in order to avoid the media. "Oh, I know!" he exclaimed as they reached the elevator. "That's the name…the name of -"

John's voice trailed off as he turned and faced Gordon, his blue eyes wide with shock. "What the hell are they doing there?" John growled.

Surprised at how quickly the usually calmest Tracy brother had become angered, Gordon placed a calming hand on John's arm. "John, the kid was a friend of Fermat and Alan liked him. He wanted to come forward and say where Alan was. He did something dumb and he regretted it. And Paul is willing to accept responsibility for his actions. If he had it to do all over again, you can bet he would have done it differently."

"So we are supposed to forgive the fact that his bad judgment could have killed Alan?"

"Mine almost did," Gordon reminded him.

John shook his head. "Gordon, you played a stupid prank and Alan was alright."

"I never said I was sorry, John," Gordon admitted morosely. "I could have killed Alan over a dumb joke and I never even told the kid I was sorry. I kept saying I would all Winter Break but I didn't. Then I said I would do it when he came back for Spring Break."

"We were kinda busy Spring Break," John reminded him.

"Less than twelve hours, John," Gordon said bluntly. "It was less than twelve hours of dealing with the Hood. And I never told Alan I was sorry about that. Do you know what it must have done to Dad to watch Alan fighting to breathe when the Hood was choking him? Twice in the span of a few months he had to watch his son fight to live."

"Three times, Gordon," John said. "Dad was there when Alan coded today, remember?"

Gordon nodded, and then continued as he took the elevator key from John's hand. "All I am saying, John, is that I talked to Paul Han. He seems like a good kid who made a mistake. Barry Sheehan is the villain of this piece. Paul was just another one of his victims. If the Hackenbackers are still in his room, I'd like you to talk to him. You think I'm wrong for forgiving him after that, I'll go with the rest of you. But please – just talk to him first."

John sighed before nodding. He would talk to Paul Han but he wasn't sure he could be as forgiving as Gordon. Not when it was family that had been hurt.

* * *

Jeff wanted to snap at Dr. Littlefield but figured if he could just be quiet, the sooner he would be discharged.

"Well, Mr. Tracy," Dr. Littlefield said, "you seem to be in good shape. Now, try and take it easy, no staying awake for several days, watch your caffeine intake and follow up with your physician."

"He will," Virgil stated firmly, giving his father the "_I'm in charge_" look that the boys hardly ever were allowed to bestow on their father.

Scott stepped up with a wheelchair that he had pulled from the hallway. "C'mon, Dad. We'll head back to the waiting room until they come for us. At least it is a bit more comfortable."

"Fine," Jeff said, "but no wheelchair."

"Sorry, Mr. Tracy," Dr. Littlefield corrected. "But the only way you are leaving this room is in that chair. Fight me and it will be for a lot longer than that." When Jeff glared at him, the resident glared right back. "Mr. Tracy, you are ex-Air Force. Well, I was a Marine Brat, raised single-handedly by one of the toughest, biggest hard-asses the Corp ever had."

Virgil snickered. "Your father was that bad?"

"Nah," Dr. Littlefield said. "My Dad died when I was seven months old. However Colonel Rachel "Rocky" Littlefield was someone who could make the toughest Gunnery Sergeant wet himself in a heartbeat. But her marines loved her." He played with the electronic pad in his hand for a moment before signing it and handing it to Jeff for a patient signature.

"I still miss her. She was as tough as any other leatherneck, but the cancer was tougher. You would have liked her, Mr. Tracy. Or at least, you would have respected her."

Holding out a hand from where he was seated in the wheelchair, Jeff shook hands with the young doctor. "If she was anything like her son, I think I would have done both." He gave a small smile to the doctor as his sons wheeled him out, teasing their father about Jeff's "fashionable" scrubs top. At the joke, Jeff's smile turned to a frown, hoping John and Gordon would return with a clean shirt for him soon.

Watching the Tracys leave the room, Brian Littlefield stood a bit taller and gave a small, bittersweet smile. The Littelfields had been a smaller family – just him, his older brother and mom – but it made him happy to try and help heal another loving family. There were days he loved this job.

* * *

There were days he hated this job.

Nathan Matthews had been calling several rather good defensive attorneys in the area, hoping to help Professor Hackenbacker find one that would be willing to represent Paul Han, but all of them had lost interest as soon as they heard what crime the young man was being accused of.

"Damn it," the detective muttered as he hung up yet again.

"N-no luck?" Brains asked.

"Hardly a nibble. You?"

The scientist shook his head. "I th-think m-most would be w-willing to re-re defend Paul for wh-what h-he is accused of -"

"Just not for who he is accused of doing it to," Matthews finished grimly. "As long as Alan lives, we might stand a chance, but if he dies…"

Brains just nodded as the detective trailed off. The Tracys did not believe in taking advantage of wealth or fame for the most part, but one of the commonly known facts about Jeff Tracy was the most accurate one. Jeff loved his sons and would do whatever he could to protect them. Oh, if they did something wrong, he would expect them to accept responsibility. But heaven help anyone who hurt one of his sons if they were innocent.

When Gordon was injured a few years ago in a military training accident, Jeff had divided his time to making sure that Gordon had the best possible medical care available and to finding out what – or who – had caused the accident that had almost killed his fourth son and had claimed the lives of the eleven other members of Gordon's squad. In the end, engineers from Tracy Industries marine equipment division had discovered what the government investigators had missed: A contractor had replaced an approved item with an inferior look-alike. The contractor would have saved – read: pocketed for themselves – about ten thousand dollars by using the look-alike device, it ended up costing the man thirty years in a federal prison for fraud and negligent homicide.

It still bothered Gordon when he thought about it. His squad members' lives had worked out to a value of less than one thousand dollars each. But thanks to Jeff's efforts and free use of the resources available through his company, at least the person responsible wouldn't be seeing the outside of a prison cell for a very long time.

Placing a hand on the smaller man's shoulder, Detective Matthews tried to give a reassuring look. "Listen, Professor, let's hold off a bit. I have a good working relationship with the DA's office. I'll try and get Paul a good public defender if he needs one. But if Alan pulls through, I had a couple of lawyers who indicated that they might be interested. With a good mouthpiece, that kid might still see Cal-Sci in the fall."

Brains nodded. Alan Tracy and Paul Han had a great deal in common and their lives had become inexplicably entwined. If one came out of this well, then there was a good possibility both teens would be given a second chance.

* * *

John and Gordon were approaching the room when they saw Detective Matthews and Brains talking in the hallway, both clutching cell phones.

"Hey, Brains," Gordon joked. "You better hide that phone. It's against the rules to use them in the hospital."

Neither man looked amused, but Matthews ended up shrugging as he responded. "I'm sure I can get Bill here to look the other way, right?"

The police officer stationed outside the room took a sip of coffee and grinned. "Didn't see a thing, detective."

John handed Brains his overnight bag. "Here you go, Brains. If you have missed your flight, I'm sure Dad would be fine with you borrowing Tracy One. We'll be here for a while."

"H-have you h-heard about A-Alan?" Brains asked.

Gordon nodded. "Al's out of surgery. It looks like he'll make it."

Both men breathed a sigh of relief.

"I know a couple of people who would like to hear that," Matthews said as he looked Gordon in the eye.

"Fermat still in Paul's room?" the red-head asked. When the detective nodded, Gordon watched his brother carefully before speaking. "I'm heading in there, John. Are you coming or do you want to wait out here for me?"

Tracys were courageous, sometimes even recklessly so. But it took every ounce of courage John had to nod, indicating that he was ready to face one of the young men whose thoughtless, reckless actions had almost cost them their baby brother.

* * *

Paul had continued to talk softly to Fermat, trying to comfort the young genius. When he heard the door open, Paul looked up in relief. He had been hoping it would be Fermat's dad, maybe even with some news on Alan. To his shock, two of the Tracy brothers entered first, although Professor Hackenbacker and Detective Matthews came in behind them.

"G-Gordon," Fermat began to speak before tears welled up in his eyes again. In a heartbeat, the red-head came to the younger boy's side, pulling Fermat into a quick hug.

"The code wasn't for Alan," Gordon assured him. "In fact, he came out of surgery and the kid is in recovery."

"Thank God," Paul breathed as he leaned back against his pillow.

"But it was for our Dad," John said bluntly. He pushed on, disregarding the disapproving look on Gordon's face as well as the rest of the room's shock. "Dad collapsed. At first we were afraid it was a heart attack. The doctor said it was a combination of exhaustion and stress."

"He's going to be alright though," Gordon quickly added. "And it was mainly the fault of that news report."

Matthews look confused. "What news report?"

"Some vulture gave a report that Alan had died," Gordon explained. "Dad was alone in the waiting room for a moment when the story came on the vid. He...Well, he didn't deal well with it."

"And we may not know if Alan will walk again," John snapped, not willing to let go of his anger.

"And when Alan wakes up, we'll find out how he feels," Gordon retorted. "Damn it, John, if you were going to be like this, you should have waited in the hallway."

"Or do you want to make Paul here piss himself as well?" Matthews asked sarcastically. When everyone but John looked at him oddly, the detective explained. "John here made Barry Sheehan wet his pants. Basically promised retribution in such a way that he put the fear of God into him."

"Fear of God is nothing," Gordon muttered. "Fear of Tracy should really scare him."

"Well, it worked," Matthews responded. Softening, he gave the brothers a small smile. "But that is good news about Alan. And your dad."

"Mr. Tracy," Paul said softly. "I'm sorrier than words can ever say. I've already told Detective Matthews that I will testify against Barry and that I expect nothing in return. And I am hoping to see Alan and ask for his forgiveness myself, as well as the rest of your family."

John looked at the room, seeing the expectation they all had for him. Feeling sick to his stomach, the blonde shook his head. "I – I'm sorry. I can't. Not yet. I need to see Alan awake and OK before I can even think of that. I'll wait for you in the hallway, Gordo."

After John had left, Gordon shrugged. "Blondie doesn't have anything for Alan to forgive him for. Unlike the rest of us," he admitted as he gave Fermat a sideways look.

Both Hackenbackers looked oddly at Gordon before he began to explain. "You have to understand, Paul, how much Alan means to our entire family. Family is everything to us, but Alllie? He's our baby, the one that held us together when we lost Mom. After – well, after certain things that have happened in the last few months, we saw how we were letting him slip away from the family. It hurt to realize that we had almost lost the strongest link to mom we had."

"The fact that he looks so much like her probably doesn't help," Paul commented. When Gordon looked at him askance, the eighteen year old explained. "I saw that spread on your family in People."

Gordon groaned. "Man, Dad was ticked at that article."

"It wasn't true?" Paul asked out of curiosity.

"Nah, they had all their facts right for once," Gordon joked. "But we don't court the spotlight. As a whole, our family prefers their privacy. Dad wasn't able to stop the Tracys from being included in, oh, what the heck was that series called?"

"American Royalty," Matthews said as he looked through some notes. When everyone looked at him in surprise, he grumbled, "I have three month old twins. Trust me, I sometimes don't get a lot of sleep and will read anything I can find."

While the rest of the room grinned, Gordon continued. "Yeah, that was it. The Kennedys, the Rockerfellers, the Tracys, etc. But Dad did manage to block publication of a photo of Alan that was illegally obtained. Someone from his old school took it from his student file and sold it."

"You know reporters are going to try and get to Alan here, preferably with a photo spread," Matthews said.

Gordon stood and the jokester of the Tracy Family looked as harsh and tough as his oldest brother often did. "To get to Alan, they'll have to get through us. And that isn't gonna happen."

As Gordon left the room, having assured the Hackenbackers that they had made sure the two were added to the approved visitors list, Paul looked at Fermat incredulously.

"And THOSE are the easiest going Tracys?"

Fermat nodded. "N-none of th-them are e-e-easy g-going wh-when it c-comes to f-family."

* * *

John and Gordon had almost reached Surgical Waiting Room D when Stan came from the opposite end of the hallway.

"Great!" he said cheerfully. Opening the door to the room, the orderly stood in the frame and managed to speak to all of the Tracys at once. "Alan is heading to his room in a few minutes. I thought you might want to wait there instead. That way you can see him a little bit sooner. Just stay out of the medical personnel way and we'll be fine with you being there."

Grinning at Jeff, he motioned at the wheelchair. "And you can ditch the ride here, Mr. Tracy. I won't tell a soul."

Jeff gladly stood and the entire family followed Stan down the hallway to the staff elevators. Each member felt torn between anticipation and fear. No matter what the doctors said, none of them would know a moment's peace until Alan was awake. But just being able to be with him was a good start and what they would take for now.

* * *

_**A/N - OK, on our way to see Alan. And Paul has a lawyer. I am naming him for my junior year history teacher who still can make me smile.**_

**_Oh, and next chapter is an "evens" chapter. That means I will be talking to Alan and ??? OK, I am taking suggestions. Who should join the talk this time. Rules are it must be a Tracy but it can be any of the brothers or Jeff. Yes, that is right - I am willing to include Big Papa. Not Big Poppi, he's the designated hitter for the Red Sox...Sorry. The news is full of stuff on Spring Training._**

**_OK, need some sleep. Review, make me happy, I write more and post faster. - CC_**


	16. Then Let Me

**Left by the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**

* * *

**_

Disclaimer - see chapter one

_**To quote a faithful reviewing, let me squee for a moment. You like, you really like! But that has me kinda worried. I already knew I was evil and twisted, so what does that make you for enjoying it so much? I know - My kind of people! But Sam1 has cautioned me to give this chapter a diabetic warning. So - Be warned!**_

**Chapter Sixteen – Then Let Me **

In the large, sunny room that had been allocated for the youngest Tracy, his family members gathered. Jeff gave a small glare to the sleeper recliner that had been set to the side of the room, a pillow and blankets on the rolling table beside it. Virgil in turn gave his father the "I'm the doctor, you will do what I say" glare that his brothers were well used to from rescues. John was giving Gordon a un-John like glare, feeling his younger sibling had been asking too much of him to readily forgive one of the people responsible for Alan's injuries already. Gordon was glaring half-heartedly at John, feeling that if John was taking that hard-line attitude towards the young man, what hope would Paul Han have if the rest of the family pushed the issue?

Scott had been glaring for so long, no one really noticed with him.

The door to Alan's room swung open and Stan strolled in, a broad grin on his face. "And here's the act everyone has been waiting for, the Amazing Alan!"

A nurse and another orderly pushed in a hospital bed, the orderly making sure everything was in place and secure as the nurse quickly began to plug in a variety of monitoring equipment. Alan's breathing device was swiftly transferred from a portable one to the larger machine that Stan had brought into the room only minutes before. Just as the group was finishing up, Dr. Pierce entered.

The young surgeon had changed out of her scrubs and was now dressed in black slacks and a light blue blouse under a white "doctor's" coat. Her stethoscope was looped around her neck and her ID was now visible – as was her wedding ring.

"You're married?" John asked in surprise.

"Broke another heart, Doc," Stan joked. Shana's glare drove the other orderly and the nurse from the room but failed to phase her target in the least.

"Yes, I am, John. Why? I know some nice single girls if you are getting bored," Dr. Pierce joked with him.

"You just seem kinda young," John muttered.

Giving a small chuckle, Shana shook her head. "John, I am older than you. In fact, I'm about an age with Scott." When the Tracys all looked at her in surprise, she shrugged. "What? I read People."

Gordon gave a full laugh and pulled a chair up beside Alan. "Hey Sprout, you gotta wake up soon. Your hot doctor is married but does have a warped sense of humor. So Dad will be reminding Scott about how he was married and a father when he was the deputy dictator's age and that Dr. Pierce here is proof of yet another woman who would have made a great Tracy got away."

"Speaking of women who would make a great Tracy," Virgil added as he pulled up his own chair, "I spoke to Tin-Tin. She's pretty upset but said she still is planning on lots of sunrise watching this summer, so you have to get better soon and keep your promise."

Scott had moved the lounger closer to the bed so that Jeff could remain right next to Alan's face but away from the medical equipment before pulling up his own chair. "Yeah, kiddo, you are going to be fine. Just remember – You're braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think."

Finding a lack of room to pull up another chair, John was just making himself comfortable on the foot of Alan's bed when he gave a surprised look at Scott after his only oldest brother spoke.

"Scotty? That's from Winnie-the-Pooh," John said incredulously.

Scott wanted to remind his next closest brother they had both been the ones reading the stories to Alan most of the time – at least until John got the kid hooked on the Chronicles of Narnia -causing Scott to remember the words. But instead he found himself murmuring, "It still fits."

As Shana Pierce backed out of the room, practically dragging Stan with her, she gave a small smile. _Yes, Scott, _she thought, _those words certainly do fit. And not just Alan._

* * *

Sheila Nevada was brimming with joy. With the exclusive she had made sure her cousin had gotten – thanks to her – the young woman was certain it was only a matter of time before Sheila would have the money in hand to get to into a reputable modeling school. From there, she would leap from modeling to acting to marriage to a wealthy, successful man.

Linda Bailey moved towards the nurses' station, relieved to be back in her regular uniform. The bright, cheerful, scrubs were preferable to the surgical ones if only for the fact that when she was wearing these, the tension and worries that came with working with the trauma team were not as high. As a nurse, she was used to life and death situations. But cases like Alan Tracy's were not uncommon in the trauma room. A young person, badly injured; a worried family, desperate for a good sign and the medical staff trying everything they knew to provide a miracle.

When she had first started working as a nurse, Linda had been annoyed at how some surgeons acted like they were gods. But when you were the only thing between someone and certain death, maybe that gave them some small slice of reasoning for their messiah complex.

Thinking of William Axtell, the nurse hid a small grin. She had done her best to keep him humble all the years they had been together.

Linda's grin faded quickly as she looked over at Sheila Nevada. Medical assistants worked more frequently in clinics or doctors offices than hospitals. And when MAs were hired by hospitals, they usually found some task they excelled in and their specialty was changed. Lab techs, admin…_something. _Not Nevada. The arrogant airhead had spent the last eleven months floating around the hospital. Linda's only relief was that she doubted the stuck-up brat would survive her one-year review with her employment intact.

"Sheila," Linda asked as she clicked through some records. "Did you sign off on Ms. Delgado's memo?"

Glancing up, the MA shrugged. "It was the same-old, same-old. I didn't think we had to."

Sighing, the nurse turned in her chair. "If it says, acknowledgement required, then you sign off. You do remember that, don't you?"

"I know HIPAA," Sheila whined.

"Do you?" Linda snapped. "Patient privacy is vital. The Tracys are famous but deserve their privacy as much as you or I. And Alan Tracy is barely fifteen years old. His family has done everything in their power to protect him and give him a chance as normal a life as possible. Ms. Delgado just wants everyone to understand and respect that. Someone from this facility may have given some reporter info on him. Luckily, they were wrong in reporting Alan Tracy had died but it was very upsetting to the family."

Digging through some paper charts, Linda was so busy looking for the one she needed that she missed the shock that was going through Sheila at the revelation that she had mistakenly given out false information.

_Ana is gonna kill me!_

Linda picked up a file and motioned to several others. "That filing should have been done this morning. Your annual review is in less than a month. As it stands, if I were you, I would be polishing my resume."

As the nurse stalked off down the hall, Sheila glared at Linda's back. Snatching up the files, the medical assistant grumbled as she completed the assigned task. _Oh, yeah. Alan Tracy has a normal life. The kid lives with his family on their own tropical isle, when he isn't at an exclusive, private, boarding school. I saw the clothes they cut off the kid. His shoes alone would have made a payment on my used car._

OK, so that last bit may have been extreme. But Sheila had seen those shoes in the mall. And there was no way she could have afforded them. Sheila would bet the kid had everything handed to him on a silver platter. _Well, it's time for the haves to make sure the have-nots get ahead._

* * *

Ana Nevada was not a happy woman. The exclusive she had thought she had revealed had been countered by a joint official statement by a Tracy Enterprises representative and one from Baystate Medical Center. She was watching the statement being read on Global Cable Network from her news van.

_The earlier report on another network that Alan Tracy, youngest son of billionaire Jeff Tracy had died, is false. The fifteen year old boy has survived surgery to repair numerous internal injures and several broken bones. While he does look to be in for significant recovery time, for now the Tracy family and staff at Baystate Medical Center are confident that Alan will recover. The family is grateful for the support and well-wishes that have been sent and ask for privacy as they try to help Alan get over this traumatic event. Officials at BMC are also asking that the public remember that there are many sick or injured people at the facility and that respect for that be kept in mind in any visitors for the hospital._

When her phone buzzed, Ana thought to ignore it, worried that it was her boss again. The powers that be at New England Satellite News were not happy at a reporter's breaking news ending up being a mistake. Ana was beginning to think that a change in jobs may not be such a bad idea. Planning the response to a regional news channel in South Florida that she had spoken with last week, the reporter sighed when she saw the caller was her cousin.

"Sheila? What the hell do you want? Your _exclusive _nearly ruined me. No. No excuses. You either get me something I can really use or you better get used to running labs from the ER for the rest of your life. Don't think I know what your mother had planned when she got you into that Medical Assistant's course. She figured a pretty girl like you would snag a doctor for a husband no time flat. Well, that was a waste of Aunt Ardith's money, wasn't it?"

"Of course," Ana mused as she leaned back in her chair, "if you were to take a camera I slipped in to you and obtained footage of Alan Tracy, preferably with some family nearby, I could make sure you get the money. No, not a quick cell phone picture. This is a kid that no one has got a shot of in twelve years. Now picture this – loving family members surrounding the hospital bed of their injured baby. It will be the pictures seen round the world. It will make my career and launch yours."

Hanging up, Ana stayed in her reclined position, feeling very smug. The camera she would get to Sheila couldn't be traced back to her as Ana had reported it stolen from her car a month ago. She had thought it could be useful to have something like that in the future. Now, it would appear, if Sheila were to be caught, that the young woman had stolen the camera from her own cousin.

And if Sheila wasn't caught, Ana would have footage that members of the paparazzi had been trying to get for more than a decade. Smiling, Ana put her phone away and prepared to head back out for another try at getting a news break. Right now, she felt like she couldn't lose.

* * *

Jeff smoothed back a lock of Alan's hair for what seemed to be the twentieth time in as many minutes. Looking up as his other sons, he came to a decision.

"We need to get some hotel suites. No," Jeff interrupted when it looked like they would all argue with him.

"Alan could be here for a couple of weeks, at least. Once he is stable enough, we can transfer him to the island. It's what we did when Gordon was hurt. But we also rented a small house near the hospital Gordon was in. Then, I was able to argue with you that we needed someplace to have Alan. And now, I am also saying it's for Alan. If you are exhausted, you can't be at your best for Alan."

"Can I make a suggestion?"

The five conscious Tracys whirled around to see Dr. Pierce standing there. The young doctor smiled as she came closer.

"My husband and I moved five months ago, when I was seven months pregnant. I had been reluctant to give up my townhouse, since it is located across the street from the hospital, on the south side. But we decided we needed a bigger place for our family. It's only two bedrooms, but it's furnished. It was my pet project when I was put on bed rest. Dr. Axtell never touched my parents' insurance money and I couldn't bring myself to use it. But I thought the townhouse would make good emergency housing for families here at BMC. So, if you are interested, you'd be the first family to reside in Pierce House."

"Pierce House?" Gordon asked. "Modest, doc?"

Shana shrugged. "I named it for my parents. After all, it was their house. I lived there until they died and once I recovered enough from the accident that killed them, I lived with Dr. Axtell. Of course, back then I called him Uncle Bill. I still do outside the hospital sometimes. I moved back into my parents' house when I was a resident here. My husband teased me that I was reluctant to let go of the house. He was close to the truth. But…"

Dr. Pierce's voice trailed off for a moment before she approached the bed. Smiling at Alan, she picked up his chart and made a few notes.

"I wanted their lives to have meaning. I wanted them to have a connection to me. They day my sons were born I realized I already had that. So -"

Shana sighed and set the chart back. "I have to go check on another patient. But I'll have someone run the keys up to you. Get some rest. I get the feeling when Alan wakes up, you five are going to need to bring your A game."

Opening the door, she turned back and spoke over her shoulder. "Oh, and Mr. Tracy, I know it will be much harder to pull you from here. But I can and will conspire to have you readmitted for cardiac testing if you don't rest, eat regular meals and feel free to make use of the shower. I'm sure everyone would appreciate it."

As the door closed behind her, Jeff gave a small smile. "Yes, boys – there goes a girl who would have made a great Tracy."

* * *

In Paul Han's room, the sun was beginning to set as the Hackenbackers were getting ready to leave to check on the Tracys.

Detective Matthews was writing down Brains' cell phone. "OK, Professor. Got it. If any of the lawyers call back, I'll let you know."

"Professor Hackenbacker," Paul protested. "I really can't let you do this."

Brains was putting away his customized phone – he really did prefer it to the off-the-shelf one he had borrowed from the officer outside the door earlier – when he looked over at Paul.

"Y-you didn't a-ask," Brains responded easily. "I c-can more than a-afford it. I m-may n-not be as r-rich as Mr. Tr-Tracy -"

"Who is?" Matthews muttered.

"B-but h-he has p-paid me well over the y-years and m-my ex-ex," Brains took a breath. "My c-cost of l-living has b-been low."

"Besides," Matthews reasoned, "we have to get one to -" The ringing of his phone drew the detective's attention.

"Hello? Oh, yes, Mr. Tagalakis. You are. Yes, that would be fine. No, the hospital said they want to keep Paul for forty-eight hours observation. Yes, I'll let the hospital know you are an approved visitor. That would be great. Thanks."

Matthews hung up, a smile on his face. "That was Peter Tagalakis, a local defense attorney. Man is good and most cops actually respect him. His rep for taking on the underdog, someone who really doesn't deserve jail time, will pay out. And Professor? He said he'll cut his fees."

"N-nice to g-get sale pr-price," Brains quipped as they headed towards the door, nodding goodbyes to Paul.

Leaning back on his pillow, Paul sighed with relief. He felt as if he had a chance. Alan was going to live and he had a lawyer. Frowning, Paul remembered John Tracy's words about not being sure if Alan would walk again.

"C'mon, God, we could use a few more miracles here," Paul prayed softly.

* * *

It had taken some arguing amongst his sons – and Jeff's sworn promise to call if it looked like Alan was even _thinking _of waking up – but he was finally alone with Alan. As he brushed Alan's hair away from his face once more, Jeff remembered doing much the same the night after the Hood's attack.

_Jeff sat in the now darkened infirmary. His two blonde sons lay in beds, with Jeff in a chair between them. It had taken some doing, but he had finally pushed the rest of the family off to bed. _

_John had not been injured as badly as it had first seemed. And Alan had been hurt worse. Both boys had suffered severe bruising on their back and shoulders. In addition, John had some burns from the explosion on Thunderbird Five. Alan? His baby had started having trouble breathing. It turned out the choking done by the Hood's telekentic powers had caused some swelling. The muscle relaxers Virgil had given the teenager had helped and the swelling had gone down, but they were not without risk - which was why Alan had to be monitored overnight._

"_Dad?" a soft voice whispered in the dark. _

_Turning from his youngest son, Jeff smiled at John. "Hey, John. Do you need some more meds?"_

"_No," John said adamantly. "Is Alan going to be alright?"_

_Jeff nodded. "Virgil thinks so. With Alan's other allergies, Virg is just erring on the side of caution, otherwise he would have let Alan be in his own room. Why? You want the room to yourself?"_

_Managing to turn himself – after several painful winces – John watched his younger brother sleep. "Nah. I hardly ever get to see him. It seems like whenever he comes home, I'm up on Five. Man, when did he get so tall? He's already past Gordon." _

_John sighed. "Remember when he was a baby? You and mom were so worried that bringing a new baby home, one so much younger than the rest of us, would make us resent him."_

"_But you didn't," Jeff responded softly._

_Smiling, John relaxed a bit more into the pillows. "Nope. He was the coolest toy we had ever been given. Gordon thought it was awesome that he was finally the big brother. Virgil had someone who would listen to him for hours when he played. I had someone to show the stars to. And Scott -"_

"_Scott adored Alan from day one. That was his baby. He changed him, fed him, rocked him to sleep…"_

_John interrupted his father's musing. "Used him to score with girls." At Jeff's wide eyes, the older blonde let loose an uncharacteristic giggle. "You didn't know? Alan was about eighteen months old when Scott figured out the girls loved cute babies. So, Scott took advantage of the situation." _

_Jeff smiled. "I was an only child. But puppies worked great." At his son's wide eyes, Jeff chuckled. "I wasn't always your father, John. I had a few tricks of my own."_

"_Is that how you met mom?" John joked._

"_Nope," Jeff chuckled again. "Your mother rear-ended me in a parking lot."_

"_No wonder I can't meet a nice girl," John sighed. "Not a lot of available girls in space. Or should I say, no parking lots." _

_Frowning, Jeff wondered if he had asked too much of John. His second son spent three fourths of the year on Five, missing out on family time and any sign of a personal life. Had he asked too much of all his sons, to help fulfill his dream of International Rescue?_

"_Don't."_

_The firm voice startled Jeff. John reached out his own hand to grasp his father's "We don't regret it, Dad. International Rescue may have started in your head, but it's become part of all our hearts. We're doing this for you, we're doing this for mom and we're doing this so no other family has to suffer that kind of pain. Look at Alan, Dad. He's fourteen. He can barely remember his mother. Alan doesn't remember how she would dance around the house, singing to him. He doesn't remember how her face would light up when you came home. That kid will never know how much love and laughter she filled our house with. But we do need to do one thing, Dad. We need to let Alan know how much we love him. He needs to be as important to us as the Thunderbirds. We can't keep putting him on the sidelines and hope he understands."_

_John sighed before he continued. "He's a kid, Dad. Yes, he was brave and daring today. Alan showed more courage in this situation than any ten adults usually could. But he's not even fifteen yet. When I was that age, you knew what kind of music I liked, my favorite book and what I wanted to be when I grew up. What's Alan's favorites, Dad? What are his hopes and dreams? Don't kick yourself for not knowing. Kick yourself if you don't start finding out."_

"_Johnny?"_

_Alan's soft voice startled both men. With some soothing words, Jeff managed to get both of his sons back to sleep. But John's impassioned speech had the Tracy father awake most of the night._

_Well, that and the five cups of coffee._

"M-Mr. Tracy?"

Brains stepped into the room, interrupting Jeff's thoughts.

"Hey, Brains," Jeff smiled weakly. "Where's Fermat?"

"Y-you have t-to b-be f-fourteen to v-visit," Brains shrugged.

"And Fermat only turned thirteen in April," Jeff finished.

Brains nodded and came to stand by the bed. "I'm st-still go-going to t-take F-Fermat to v-visit Cal-Cal…Los Angeles. We'll b-be b-back in a f-few days. B-but b-before we g-go, I w-wanted to t-tell you. I sp-spoke to P-Paul H-Han. He's a fr-friend of m-my son. And h-he feels awful about wh-what happened. He is r-refusing any d-deals."

"And your paying for his lawyer," Jeff interjected. When the older Hackenbacker paled, Jeff motioned to a chair.

"I've had a lot of time to think and have pulled together some facts. Paul Han's name seemed familiar. Then I recalled Alan mentioning him with Fermat. Paul Han organizes study groups at Wharton's and was helping Alan get into some of them. I called Penny right after the boys left. She had already run a check on both of the young men who were in the car."

"Y-your n-not m-mad?" Brains asked as he ran fingers over the back of Alan's hand. He had always loved Alan almost as much as he loved his own son.

"If you think it is the right thing to do, Brains, then no, I'm not mad."

Brains stood up to leave. "I n-need t-to g-get F-Fermat. B-But w-we'll k-keep in t-touch and c-come b-back s-soon."

"You do that Brains. But have fun with Fermat. Both of you relax." Jeff smiled at his friend.

Turning at the door, the scientist gave a small smile in return. "H-he'll b-be alright, J-Jeff. A-Alan always t-tells F-Fermat th-that Tr-Tracys are pr-pr-practically in-in-in oh, _tough_."

As the door shut behind his best friend, Jeff picked up his son's hand and pressed it to his lips. "Oh, Allie. We're not indestructible. Tracys can be broken as easily as anyone else. So you need to get better and soon. Because you are the glue that holds us together, Sprout."

Sighing deeply, Jeff made himself comfortable in his lounger. "Did I ever tell you how I met your mother? No? Well, we have all night. I told your brothers I don't want to see any of them until the morning."

Sometime between Scott's birth and Jeff leaving NASA, the Tracy father drifted off to sleep, his youngest son's hand still firmly clenched within his own.

* * *

_**A/N - Brava! Alan is on the road to recovery. What else could go wrong?**_

**_Alan - Knowing you? Just about anything._**

**_CC - (grins) Alan! How are you?_**

**_Alan - In a drug induced coma, duh!_**

**_Gordon - Alan, Alan, Alan - When do you learn? That is not how to sway a woman._**

**_CC - Um, Gordon. I don't sway easily._**

**_Gordon - I have to say, I love what you are doing with me. I'm complex, compassionate, agnsty and determained. Very nice. _**

**_CC - Well, the thing most Thunderbird Fans love is the stregnth and unity of the Tracys. So having your little brother hurt and being the only Tracy to forgive Paul was surprisingly mature of you._**

**_Gordon - Wait. I'm more mature than John? Sweet!_**

**_Alan - Uh, Gordon - I think the point CC has been trying to make is John is the only one who hasn't hurt me emotionally. You're the only Tracy to hurt me physically._**

**_CC - And John was enjoying getting to know his baby brother for the first time in years. It made him happy to see how much that he and Alan had in common beyond physical similarities. So he is angry, scared and a tad resentful._**

**_Gordon - Oh. But you still write me so well, CC. And the way you smile as you type up such agnst. ~Sigh~_**

**_CC - Gordon, are you flirting with me again?_**

**_Alan - (laughs) Yeah, and he is doing it badly._**

**_CC - Gordon, once more I must remind you - I'm married._**

**_Gordon - Well, I have no problem with that, CC. Like I said - Is it working?_**

**_CC - Gordon, I already answered that. And further - did you see the picture on my home page?_**

**_Gordon - Yeah. Air Force, communications patch._**

**_Alan - Wait. You could tell all that?_**

**_Gordon - Smarter than I look, baby bro._**

**_CC - OK, so how do you think we met? No answer, Red? We met in the military. I only served one hitch, but I am the one with the marksmanship medals. Where do you think I get so comfortable when I have you shoot? Now, do you really want to tick me off?_**

**_Gordon - Um...Think I am gonna see if anyone one, um, needs me. (Takes off running.)_**

**_Jeff steps forward. _**

**_Jeff - Told you that would work, CC._**

**_CC (grins) - Yes, yes you did._**

**_Alan - Dad! You're helping CC! She already bribed John with chocolate cake and threatened Scott with having Kate have pregnant. With TRIPLETS!_**

**_Jeff - Alan, the happier she is, the faster she writes. The faster she writes, the sooner you will wake up. _**

**_CC - Yep. Happier than I can say. Of course, with my reviews approaching 300 - OK, one more - SQUEE!! _**

**_Jeff - Just leave her to it, son._**

**_Alan - I guess._**

**_CC - Hey, want some popcorn? (Father and son look at her in confusion.) Nope? OK, more for me. Laters, guys!_**


	17. We Make Quite a Team

**Left by the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - see chapter one**_

**_Here is more. There would have been up earlier but SOME web site made it IMPOSSIBLE._**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen – We Make Quite a Team**

Barry Shaheen stared up through the window, hatred and anger flowing through his body with every beat of his heart. He was angry at his family, at the Tracys – hell, he was angry at the world. _I was so close. I was gonna be a somebody. _

"Hey, idiot," a sarcastic voice snapped at him. Looking up, Barry saw the plain-clothes cop who had arrested him the day before.

"And good morning to you to," Barry snarled back.

Pulling up a chair, Detective Matthews looked at Barry like he was examining a specimen in the zoo. "Well, you'll be glad to know your attorney is on his way here. So you might want to splash some water on your face."

"What I get, some kid fresh out of law school?"

"Nah," Matthews drawled as he stood back up. "The law school grads won't start at the Public Defenders office until July. This one will at least have a year under his belt. Well, close to it."

The detective wandered off, feeling the hate-filled eyes following him. It wasn't the first time and he ignored it. Both he and his wife had had busy days yesterday and coming home to the twins wasn't always the most relaxing thing in the world. But it was the boost he had needed to get him through each work day. A small smile graced Matthew's face as the image of his family filled his mind.

* * *

Paul Han woke to a hospital worker delivering his breakfast. Finding his appetite much improved over the day before, the eighteen year old was devouring the food as if it were gourmet fare. He had just finished his eggs and toast when a knock came at the door.

An older man leaned into the room. "Mr. Han?" When Paul nodded, the man let himself in. "I'm Peter Tagalakis. I apologize for the early visit but I have a court case at nine and want to be there a bit early."

"No problem, sir," Paul said softly. "And thank you for taking my case. But I don't know what you can do. Like I told Detective Matthews, I am guilty and I will take whatever punishment that comes my way."

The attorney nodded. "Well, I spoke with the DA last night. According to the information we have now, if you testify against Barry Shaheen, he is willing to consider probation and community service. There will be a few things he'll need before he agrees to that. One will be if you are still attending college, remain in good standing and keep your nose clean. I already spoke to Cal Sci. They said _if _you get probation and community service, they are still willing to accept you and your scholarship is intact. They even have an idea for the community service, tutoring at a community center in East LA."

Seeing Paul watching in wide-eyed silence, Peter continued. "In addition, drug and alcohol testing would need to be done on a regular basis. Your grades were stellar and your behavior, beyond this one incident, was exemplarily. You have a supportive, loving family that you will be living with while at college. By the way, your father is a nice man and I am not sure what your grandmother was saying – my second language is Greek, not Chinese – but it sounded wonderful."

"She was probably offering to cook for you," Paul laughed. "That is Grandma's solution for everything. To feed people."

"Well," Peter joked, "I may have to head out that way when the wife and I take our vacation. I love Asian cuisine."

"Anyhow," he continued, "there is one last condition to the probation. This may be the hard part." Peter looked at Paul with a slightly sad smile.

"We need to get the Tracy family to agree to it. Unfortunately, it's an election year and no one wants to be seen as soft on crime. Now, the fact that Alan Tracy is going to live may help. But the DA won't sign off on the agreement without that."

"So," Paul sighed as he looked out the window at the brightening sunshine. "I can basically forget it, right?"

The door opened but neither of the room's occupants turned to it until they heard a voice speak.

"Or," Jeff Tracy said, "you could talk to me."

* * *

Jeff Tracy woke, stretching in his chair. For what it was, the recliner chair wasn't too uncomfortable.

OK, he had slept in worse. Smiling, Jeff thought of one night during NASA training when Jack had gotten lost trying to find a club that he said that they _had _to go to. They never did find the club and had returned to Jack's car only to found it gone. They didn't have enough cash for the VERY pricy cost of a cab and buses didn't run that late. The two men discovered park benches made for a lousy night's sleep.

"Well, Alan, that is one story I will not be telling you," Jeff smiled, leaning forward to brush a hand over his son's face. A nurse entering the room caused Jeff to raise his head.

"Good morning, Mr. Tracy," the middle aged woman said cheerfully. Picking up Alan's chart, she began to make notes as she looked at the monitors. Setting it back down, the nurse leaned over Alan. Apparently satisfied, she looked over at Jeff.

"I'm Allison Fox and I'll be the lead nurse in ACCU today." Brushing a piece of Alan's hair away, she smiled at him. "Is that all right with you, sweetie? I promise, if you need a sponge bath, I'll wait until the cute student nurses come on duty, OK?"

Jeff gave a soft chuckle. "You have kids this age."

"Five," Allison said cheerfully. "Phillip, Lex, Dominic, Ben and Brady. All boys. My husband Bill is a pilot so I was a school nurse until Brady started high school. My baby is the same age as Alan here. Phillip and Lex have both graduated from college, one lives in New York and the other in London, and Dom is at UNH – that's New Hampshire, if you didn't know. Ben just finished basic training for the Navy so I only have Brady at home. If you can call a high school student as ever being at home."

Jeff brushed back some of Alan's hair – he really needed to try and get Alan to trim it at least – and nodded. "Alan is the one who is hardly home. But then few of us are. That's why he was at a boarding school." His voice shook slightly as he ran the back of his hand over Alan's cool cheek. "He was supposed to be safe there."

"Mr. Tracy," Allison said firmly. "Now, all I know about what happened to your son was what was on Fox News last night, but they showed where your son was found. That school nurse position was at Wharton's. Alan should have been safe. It was a combination of bad luck and someone else's stupidity."

Pulling at the blanket, Allison checked the catheter quickly before settling it back down. Tucking the blanket in, the nurse looked over at Jeff.

"So stop blaming yourself. I've met the two boys who are accused of hitting your son."

Jeff nodded. "I've had a friend look into them. It sounds like the one boy, Paul Han, is a good kid who made a mistake. But Barry Sheehan…"

When Jeff's voice trailed off, Allison nodded. "He's an ass. If he hadn't been arrested now, he would have been later. He's one of the reasons I was happy to head back to a hospital. The pay is a bit better, the hours a bit worse. But any arrogant brats – well, if you are here, you usually feel too lousy to be too much of a brat. I often wondered why people put up with someone like Barry. But he could be so charming, in a snake-oil salesman kinda way."

"Did you ever meet Paul Han?"

Now Allison smiled widely. "Oh, yes. Paul has epilepsy. He's had several episodes every year while at Wharton's. He wasn't wealthy or athletic but he was a good boy. Always had time to help others. But I could tell he was lonely. Part of him wanted so much to be like the other boys. I'm willing to bet that was what drew him to Barry. Mr. Sheehan was always the life of the party, if you know what I mean. Several times I suspected his "tension headaches" were actually hangovers, but I had no proof. It's a shame when he finally crashed and burned, he did it literally and hurt two innocent boys."

"Now," the nurse smiled at Jeff, "if you or Alan need anything, just press the button. We only have five patients in this wing today. It's a good week. Wait until school lets out. Then we're in trouble."

Just as Allison reached for the door, it swung open, revealing Scott and Virgil.

"Hi, Dad," Virgil said cheerfully, examining Alan's chart and machines even as Scott went straight to a chair, pulling it closely. Looking over the chart, he nodded at the nurse and commented, "Looks like Al's had a good night. His vitals are holding well and he's actually having some output through the catheter."

"Yes, Doc," Allison cheerfully agreed. "Now that you're here, how about you try and talk your father into going for a walk. May I suggest down to the café on the first floor? It has a patio so you can get a bit of sunshine while you eat breakfast."

"That does sound like a plan," Virgil said. "We have this shift, Dad. Why don't you get some air and something to eat?"

"Yeah," Scott grumbled. "It's our turn to kick you out. Stay gone for at least an hour."

"But -"

"Dad, if we need you, we'll call you on the cell," Virgil said firmly. Grabbing his father by the arm, he led Jeff to the door and nudged him out, along with the nurse.

Allison and Jeff stood there for a moment, silent before the nurse began to chuckle. "Let me guess," she laughed. "First born and middle child, right? They are straight out of a family dynamics text book."

Jeff allowed himself a small smile before he sighed. "OK, which way was that café?"

* * *

Gordon woke, stretching a bit before practically jumping out of bed. As John looked up, cup of coffee in hand and the New York Times Crossword puzzle on the table, the blonde almost laughed at his younger brother but figured the red-head would not appreciate that.

"Hey, Gordon," John said, waiting until Gordon looked at him before continuing.

"Scott and Virgil have the morning shift. Virg has sworn he'll drag Scott back here for a couple of hours this afternoon. They'll drag dad out for lunch and maybe over here for some rest, although I wouldn't count on that until Alan awakes."

"Do the doc and the deputy dictator have plans for dinner?" Gordon asked sarcastically.

John shrugged and smiled softly. "We always try to eat dinner as a family. Scott and Virgil will bring something in."

Gordon sighed and walked over to the window. Dinner would help. Too bad Alan couldn't join in. Turning, he went over to grab his suitcase, ready to put the clothes that had been delivered the night before via the New York office away. He paused as he admired some of the old furniture.

"Nice dresser, isn't it?" John mused softly. "I had spoken to the security officer who ran the keys up. He said that Dr. Pierce left some of her family furniture here. I'm willing to bet the dresser was one of them."

"And how do you figure that?" Gordon asked.

"Well, probably because she must have slipped some photos in a drawer and missed them when she moved. I found a few in a small box when I put away my clothes." John grinned. "And I know something about Alan's doctor that you don't."

Curious, Gordon stepped closer, eager to peek at the pictures John had slid out from underneath his paper. At the first one, he couldn't help but smile. A very young Shana Pierce sat on some rocks at what looked like a coastal town, with two adults – her parents? – smiling behind her. In a child's handwriting was written "Me, Mommy and Daddy. I am 7. Summer House, Crabapple Cove, Maine".

In the second picture, Shana was older – and in a wheelchair. She was trying to smile, but her pain, both physical and emotional, was clear to anyone looking at her. It must have been taken while she was recovering, as Gordon vaguely recognized the gardens surrounding Baystate Medical Center. Turning it over, he saw nothing beyond the development date stamped on the back. That alone seemed very telling.

The next picture showed a group of young adults, including a much older Shana in what was a tourist-type photo with the faux frame on it saying "Cheers from Cheers", which Gordon recognized as being the Bull and Finch Pub in Boston, the inspiration for the old TV show. A young man stood near Shana, obviously trying to draw her attention.

That same young man, now several years older, stood behind the doctor, his arms around her waist as they both beamed at the camera. Written on the back was a note "four months – he says boy, I say girl, Uncle Bill claims twins. Winner gets naming rights".

Gordon's eyes went wide when he took a second look at the man. "Oh, hell no!"

* * *

Jeff wandered into the Cozy Café and was pleased to see it set up as an actual small diner. _Here's hoping I can get a decent cup of coffee out of this._

"Hello," a cheerful older woman greeted Jeff. "I'm Maddie. You hit the breakfast lull. Most of the staff has eaten and few visitors have arrived. So you have your choice of where to sit."

"My son's nurse recommended the patio," Jeff responded.

"Excellent choice!" Maddie beamed. "Was that Allison or Amy?" When Jeff looked confused, she chuckled.

"Allison is lead nurse on ACCU today, while Amy is lead on Pediatrics. Both of them are always trying to encourage parents to get a bit of sunshine when they can. Those two swear it makes life easier to deal with."

"Well, they may be right at that," Jeff mused. "But it was Allison. My son would have a fit if he woke up in pediatrics."

"Let me guess," Maddie said as she led Jeff to a small table on the patio. "He's fifteen."

"Just turned, less than a month ago," Jeff responded. "How did you know?"

Pouring Jeff a cup of coffee, Maddie smiled. "I was a pediatric nurse for forty-five years. I remember that age. Trying so hard to be grown up and the family still seeing them as a child. Now, I see you as a bacon and eggs man, right? It will be out shortly and you enjoy that coffee. It always tastes better without the Styrofoam cup."

The woman bustled away, belying her age. Sipping the coffee, Jeff almost groaned in appreciation. It did taste better in a cup.

"Hullo."

Jeff looked down to the voice, seeing wide blue eyes smiling up at him.

"Trebor says you is my friend's daddy. Are you?"

Shaking his head, Jeff answered, "No, I don't think so. All of my sons are much older than you."

"My's friend is older. He is."

"Allen!" Jeff jumped at the name but the little boy just turned and smiled.

Trevor Ballard, now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt reading "_**Marines are a department of the Navy – the MEN'S department"**_, came running out through the patio doors that had been left open. Picking up his little brother, he shrugged.

"Sorry, Mr. Tracy. I was just paying for breakfast and he got away from me. He saw you when you came in and, well, Gordon's picture was in the paper this morning." Seeing Jeff's confusion, Trevor looked around until he saw a discarded Boston Globe. "Here, this is what Allen saw. When he realized who you were, he wanted to ask where Gordon was. I'm sorry."

Jeff had spread the paper out, seeing that picture he hated from Lucy's funeral, one of him that had been taken a few years ago and one of his four older sons arriving at the hospital yesterday. The headline screamed "_**New Tragedy for Tracys**_" but Jeff shoved it aside. He just couldn't deal with the media right now.

"So," Jeff asked the little boy, "you met Gordon, did you?"

"Uh-huh," the child said from the safety of his brother's arms. "He stayed wif me 'til Trebor gots here."

"Trevor?"

A young woman stood in the doorway. From the look of her, she was clearly related to both Trevor and Allen.

"The police say the need to talk with you and the nurse from pediatrics said Allen needs more testing."

The little boy frowned but his brother just kissed his head. "C'mon champ…You be good for Heather and the vampires, I'll see if I can't get the OK for a Popsicle this afternoon. Sound good?"

Allen nodded and went with his sister while Trevor spoke with Jeff. "Again, I'm sorry Mr. Tracy. Allen is a good kid, it's just been a rough few months. And after what happened yesterday -"

When Jeff looked puzzled again, Trevor picked the paper back up and handed it to the Tracy father. "Your family tragedy was on page one. My family's was relegated to page three. I hope your son does better. And if Gordon has a chance, Allen – my Allen, that is – would love to see him again. The doctors said they will be keeping him a few days until his blood work stabilizes."

The younger man walked away and Jeff, curious, pulled open the paper. His heart went out to the family as he read about how a little boy had been hurt and the mother killed when the father had caused an accident while drinking and driving. The man had fled the scene and police had a warrant out for his arrest. It was also reported that the oldest son in the family had returned from his Marine base to receive custody of his younger brother. An eighteen year old sister was expected to accompany the two brothers when he returned to his base. The marine, Trevor Ballard, had already been working with his mother – according to neighbors – to secure family housing so as to get his family away from his father, who had begun drinking again. One neighbor had even said that Mrs. Ballard had almost divorced her husband eight years ago but they had reconciled when her husband had quit drinking. According to a relative, the man had become stressed when the younger son, Allen, had been diagnosed with juvenile diabetes, and had fallen off the wagon.

Jeff wondered if the diabetes was the reason why the doctors were being so cautious with the little boy. But any further thoughts were disrupted when Maddie bustled out, a plate filled with fresh fruit, poached eggs, bacon and whole wheat toast.

"Now, you eat up," Maddie fussed as she set the plate down. Looking at the paper, Maddie picked it up and turned it to the entertainment section.

"Read the funnies. It's better for the digestion."

Jeff just smiled as she bustled away. But as he started in on the food, his thoughts faded to Alan and Allen. Two babies of their families had both had their life endangered by a drunk driver. While his Alan had been hurt worse physically, Jeff couldn't help but wonder if it was the Ballards' Allen whose life was being shattered beyond all control.

* * *

With food in his stomach, and feeling more settled than he had since Jack's death, Jeff wandered through the halls of the Medical Center, trying to kill some time. He knew his oldest son and there was no way Scott would let Jeff go back into the room with Alan until the hour was up. As Jeff debated what to do with the remaining ten minutes, he was startled to find himself outside of Paul Han's room.

"Are you debating if you should talk to him?"

Jeff turned to see a nurse standing behind him. She seemed familiar…

"Linda, right?"

Linda, nodded. "You betcha. You were down here to see Paul Han, weren't you? I know two of your sons have visited him. As well as your friends, the Hackenbackers." Freezing, she looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "That wasn't a secret, was it?"

"Well, I knew about the Hackenbackers. As the young man is still alive, I am presuming that neither of the sons was Scott."

"Temper on that one?" Linda grinned. "No," she murmured, looking at a data pad. "Security says John and Gordon, with Gordon in there twice."

"Brains – Professor Hackenbacker – is one of my best friends, not to mention a trusted employee. He's known Alan since he was a toddler and loves him like he was family. But Brains is paying for that young man to get a lawyer."

Seeing Jeff's confusion, Linda shrugged. "When we hold onto hate and anger, the only one we really hurt is ourselves. Alan's going to live, Mr. Tracy. The legal system is dealing with those responsible."

"One of my sources found out they may offer Paul Han a deal," Jeff confided. "I just – I don't know if it seems fair."

"Life is rarely fair, Mr. Tracy. But, I was there when Paul woke up. He seemed genuinely sorry for what happened and more worried about Alan than himself. Maybe there is a reason he is being given a chance. And now ask yourself just would someone we both know want you to do?"

"What would Jesus do?" Jeff asked sarcastically.

"What would Alan do?" Linda admonished gently. Seeing she had the father's attention, the nurse stepped closer to the door. She began to open it when Jeff put a restraining hand on hers.

Jeff made a "shushing" motion, when Linda started to say something, more interested in hearing what Paul Han was saying with his lawyer. Every word seemed to confirm Penny's research and Brains' opinion. Hearing the genuine regret and apparent acceptance of having his future squashed, Jeff came to a decision.

"So," Paul sighed as he looked out the window at the brightening sunshine. "I can basically forget it, right?"

Jeff opened the door but neither of the room's occupants turned to it until they heard him speak.

"Or," Jeff Tracy said, "you could talk to me."

* * *

_**A/N - OK, a bit more with Little Allen. Isn't he cute? **_

_**Yes, Dr. Pierce's name is inspired by M*A*S*H, and what was that little tweat to that show? Oh, Allison Fox is for a long-time reviewer, combining her real name and pen name cause these past couple of weeks have stunk big time for her. And what was the inside joke for her family? Cyber chocolate cake for whoever guesses it first.**_

**_Even chapter next, and you know what that means. So, hmm. Who next? I have intimidated or threatened three Tracy brothers. But maybe they just needed fresh air._**

**_Review, make me happy, send me over 300...More soon. CC_**


	18. It's Hard For You To Talk

**Left By The Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - See Chapter One**_

**_OK, the gluten free slice of cake goes to...JeanieLee. While many of you guessed that the names of Nurse Allison Fox's sons were named for the actors who played the Tracy son, she is the only one who remembered I said FAMILY. And Allison's hubby is named Bill, as in Bill Paxton who played Jeff Tracy so wonderfully._**

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen – It's Hard for Me to Speak**

Scott watched Alan sleeping, a small smile on his face. Virgil grinned at his oldest brother from across the bed.

"I wonder how freaked out Alan would be if he knew how many times you have watched him sleep?" Virgil mused, laughing when Scott glared at him.

Looking down at Alan, Scott's smile returned. "I can't help it. I just like to make sure he is safe. And when he sleeps is the one time he lets me."

"John said you are going to be impossible once we get him home," Virgil mused with a smile.

"And you didn't think so?" Scott murmured as he looked over at the monitors, pleased to see how often Alan was triggering the vent, meaning that he was mainly breathing on his own.

"Nope. I said the rest of us would be impossible once we got him home. You would start right away."

Scott didn't say anything or even bother with a glare.

Virgil really did know him way too well.

* * *

Gordon and John grabbed some food and coffee at the Dunkin Donuts near the hospital before finding a small mom n' pop grocery store to pick up a few staples, knowing that it would be easier for them to grab food at the house than the hospital.

As he tossed some coffee and filters for the coffee maker that was back at Pierce House, Gordon decided to try and talk to his brother.

"John?"

The blonde looked up from the short list he had made while waiting for Gordon to dress, curiosity on his face.

"Are you still mad at me?" Gordon asked morosely. He still felt he was right to forgive Paul Han but worried the other Tracys wouldn't understand.

John sighed. "No, Gordo, I'm not mad. I had a lot of time to think on it. Penny did some research on both of the suspects. Paul Han does seem like a good kid. Did you know he organized the study groups Al joined? He also was the driving force behind Wharton students tutoring at the local Y. Alan mentioned he was interested in helping with that next year."

"But will the rest of the family be OK with it?" Gordon asked as he tossed some packaged lunch meat and cheese into the basket.

"Dad and Virgil will come around eventually," John theorized.

"And Scott?"

Raising an eyebrow as he turned the carriage to the only open register, John shook his head. "Scott? You are joking, right?"

The redhead sighed. Yeah, Scott would never forgive anyone who hurt his brothers.

* * *

Jeff listened to Paul Han, keeping his emotions from his face. Years of boardroom strategies had taught him to not reveal anything to his opponents.

"So that's what happened, Mr. Tracy," Paul finished with a sigh. "And even if you won't agree to what the lawyers want, I hope you will give me the opportunity to talk to Alan. He's a good kid and, well, I watched the way he always stood up for others. I think that is what I feel the worst about. That when he needed someone to stand up for him, I failed Alan."

"Your sons – Gordon and John – were here yesterday," Paul continued. Seeing Jeff's brief nod and assuming that one of the brothers had mentioned their visit, Paul forged on.

"Gordon forgave me. He told me – us, really, as some other people were there – about the incident with the walnuts back in February."

Jeff went slightly pale at that. He had not been happy with Gordon tampering with someone's food, especially after he had made it clear that the matter was closed to everyone except the Hackenbackers, Jeff and Alan. But as he held Alan on the floor of the dining room, his son's eyes wide at first in blind terror, followed by them closing as Alan's breathing became more and more labored, Jeff forgot for the moment everything except the litany he kept repeating.

_Please, Allie, breathe. C'mon baby, please, son. Breathe. Just breathe._

It took Jeff a moment to realize Paul was still speaking.

"Anyhow, Gordon told me Alan would forgive me if I just asked. I told him he should take his own advice. He still feels bad about that incident. To make a long story short – I know, too late – I really hope you'll let me talk to Alan, no matter what you decide."

Looking over at Peter Tagalakis, Jeff gave a small nod. "I want those terms in writing. This is the name and number of my Personal Assistant. She'll have Jake Getty, the lead attorney for Tracy Enterprises, get in touch with you. Jake also handles all of the family business. I've known him for years and he'll take care of everything."

Tagalakis took business card from Jeff and slipped it in the pocket of his suit coat. "I've met Jake Getty. He's a good man. Let me guess – he's also a friend of the family?"

Jeff allowed a small smile to break his poker face. "I was best man at his wedding and he and his wife are Alan's godparents."

"No pressure there," Peter muttered as Jeff left the room.

Paul stared at the door for almost a minute before turning back to his attorney. "Did – did he just do what I think he did?"

Now it was Peter Tagalakis' turn to smile. "If you are asking if you are being given a second chance, I think the answer is yes. A lot of people are going out on a limb for you, Paul. Don't mess this up."

Tears filled Paul's eyes as the lawyer hastened from the room, muttering about catching the DA before court went into session and getting the wheels turning.

_OK, God. You seem to have heard all the other prayers. Now, if you can just let Alan walk. Please. He deserves to have his life back – all of it._

* * *

Jeff reentered the room, seeing Virgil by the window, talking to Dr. Pierce. Scott remained by Alan's side, softly speaking to his younger brother, rubbing the teen's hand in a soothing manner he had used for years. Leaning towards Scott, he whispered, "Don't you want to hear what the doctor has to say?"

"Virg will tell me," Scott muttered. "Alan needs to know someone is here."

Confident that his field commander had the watch still, Jeff maneuvered over to stand beside Virgil.

"Mr. Tracy," Shana greeted him softly. "I hope you got something actually edible and a bit of fresh air. The night nurse said you slept for a few hours in the chair. Try a bit more sleep tonight or you start heading over to the townhouse, got it?"

"Fine. I will. I just, well, I spent a lot of time talking to Alan last night."

"And I'm sure that was stimulating conversation, Mr. Tracy," Shana said, shaking her head, "but -" The doctor's I-Phone beeped and she looked at the message, frowning. "Sorry. I have to get to the ER."

As the young physician raced out of the room, Jeff and Virgil headed back over to the bed.

"So?" Scott asked, without his eyes ever leaving Alan's face. "What does the doctor say?"

"Alan's vitals are good, the vent can more than likely be removed as soon as he wakes up," Virgil confirmed.

"With the way he is triggering the vent, why not take it out now?" Scott argued.

"Scott," Virgil admonished, "Alan's lung was completely collapsed less than twenty four hours ago. The doctors want to play it cautious until Alan is awake and they can judge his reactions better."

"Still nothing on his back and legs?" Jeff inquired.

Virgil shook his head. "They don't know but Dr. Pierce is bringing in a scanner. We'll need to leave the room for about half an hour. No, Scott," Virgil cut off the pending argument. "If Alan had to leave the room for the scan, they would have to increase the meds, he would be out even longer and we still couldn't be in the room. Once they bring the equipment up, we just have to leave the room for about thirty minutes."

"So for the most part, we just won't know until Alan wakes, will we?" Jeff said sadly.

Silence from the middle Tracy told the story and soon the only sounds in the room came from the machinery monitoring Alan.

* * *

Barry sat in the interrogation room, glaring at the door when it finally opened. The cop from the day before – what was his name? – entered followed by a young woman who set her brief case down and pulled up a chair.

"OK, Barry, I am Lorraine Desrocher. I'm your court appointed attorney. Now, I'm going to be up front and frank with you -" The lawyer broke off, looking over at Detective Matthews.

"Detective Matthews, I think I need to speak with my client in private, if you don't mind."

The law officer had never sat down and headed back to the door. Before he left, Matthews looked over at the table and grinned. "Just out of curiosity, who did you piss off?" When the lawyer looked at him, confused, Matthews gestured at Barry.

"Idiot boy confessed in front of witnesses to vehicular assault, leaving the scene of an accident, driving under the influence, assault, unlawful imprisonment and grand theft auto." The detective paused. "Wait – no, he didn't admit to that. But DOT cameras half a mile from Wharton's filmed him, coming and going, in a car that has been identified as being school property, which your client had no right to take. Oh, and the witnesses to his confession include myself and the family of the victim. And they did tell you the victim was the youngest son of Jeff Tracy, right?"

Lorraine rolled her eyes and bit her lip even as the door shut. No, no one had bothered to tell her that. All she had been informed was that an eighteen year old had been accused of hitting a younger boy while driving drunk. The senior lawyer in the public defender's office – second only to the DA himself – usually claimed any major cases. Yes, this one would make the news. But it sure as hell wasn't about to make Lorraine's career. Great. She would rather have gotten the gang-bangers who had been mugging old ladies outside of the Walgreen's Pharmacy than defend some punk who nearly killed the son of a revered living legend like Jeff Tracy.

Forcing herself to be professional, Lorraine pulled out a note pad and pen. "OK, Barry. As the detective so kindly pointed out, the deck is stacked against you. But at this point, if we can't get your mistaken confession thrown out – and I will work on that – we need to present you in a good light. I'll need names of people we can use as character witnesses – your parents, siblings if you have them, team mates, teachers, preachers – anyone who has anything positive to say about you."

"My father says my family wants nothing to do with me and those loser bastards at Wharton's wouldn't spit on me if I was on fire. I'm not one of them," Barry snarled. "Those rich idiots are probably lining up to tell the cops how I deserve to fry."

Barry paused, not seeming to notice the dismayed look on his lawyer's face. "Wait, that cop said assault. Does that mean Alan Tracy is alive? He looked kinda bad when they took him away."

"Good," the lawyer smiled. "Regret. That is perfect. Now hold that for the judge -"

"Man, the little shit lived. I should have clubbed him and dragged his ass into the woods where they couldn't find him. Rich kids always get all the breaks."

Lorraine was rather proud of herself for resisting the urge to pound her head against the table.

* * *

"I thought this was only going to take thirty minutes," Scott grumbled from the small atrium at the end of the corridor.

Jeff shook his head. "Scott, it's only been thirty two minutes. Calm down."

"Scott, calm down? So not gonna happen," Gordon joked as he strolled up the hallway.

"Detective Matthews called," John changed the subject when he heard Scott's low growl. When the others all turned to him, the second son continued.

"CSI checked the scene thoroughly. Seems Barry dropped a school key chain on the side of the road. His prints are on it. Foot prints are impossible to tell, but he left evidence all over the school car. And – and the car was definitely the one that hit Alan. They found trace from his running clothes as well as – as his blood. His body must have gone up on the hood because some of his hair was found trapped under a windshield wiper."

Jeff, Virgil and Scott all looked sick as they imagined the scene with painful clarity. John could sympathize and was grateful Gordon had sworn not to tell about the fact that John had vomited after speaking with the detective. The brutal picture raised by the forensic data ripped at John's heart, making him wish the bastard who had done that to his baby brother was there so he could visit a like pain on him.

"Mr. Tracy?" The family turned to see Allison Fox standing nearby. "The techs are done with Alan's tests. They'll need to run them by the doctors, so the results won't be back for a little while. But you can go back to your son's room now."

Murmuring their thanks, the Tracys retreated to Alan's room. As the nurse watched them go, Allison smiled. If strength of will was enough, that boy would be fine. And if he faltered, there were five men willing to pick up the slack and fight for him.

* * *

"You guys are early," Scott murmured as he reclaimed his seat near the head of Alan's bed.

"Not by that much," John said. "And between talks with Detective Matthews and Jake Getty, I really wanted to see Alan."

"Yeah, John," Gordon said. "You never did tell me what got you so steamed about Jake calling."

Jeff looked up at his older blonde son and saw the blue orbs shooting sparks directly at him. Refusing to be intimidated by any of his sons, Jeff glanced at Scott and realized that his oldest son would NEVER agree with the deal for Paul Han but that the younger man would lose it if he heard about it before Alan woke up. Making a decision, Jeff went to the door.

"Scott, watch Alan. I need to speak with your brothers for a moment."

Scott shrugged, then smiled at his little brother. "OK, Sprout, just you and me. Tell you what – wake up and I'll let you fly my 'bird. C'mon, ya know you wanna."

* * *

A few years ago, just as Gordon was recovering from his injuries in the WASPs, the fourth Tracy son was trying to build up his endurance by going snorkeling. Alan - who was being home schooled at the time so that he was there as his next oldest brother healed - often went with the red-head. Once, when near the reefs that surrounds Tracy Island, Alan's light failed as he entered a small cavern. The teen remembered thinking that he had never known the dark could be so, well, _dark._

His chest hurt. His stomach hurt. His shoulder hurt. It seemed as if everything from his waist up was hurting Alan. And why was it so dark? His family knew he hated total darkness, had since he was a kid. Even Fermat was accepting of Alan's need for some kind of light.

As he forced his eyes open, Alan was startled at the change from black to white. It took him a minute to realize the white was ceiling tiles. But his room at Wharton's had a different tone of white, a dark cream color. And his room at home still had the star system he and John had painted on it when the family had first moved to the island.

"_John, why are we painting this?" a ten year old Alan asked._

"_Because," John said as he penciled in some more stars before painting, "once Dad gets International Rescue up and running, I'll be spending a lot of time on the space station. So I want you to always be able to look up and see the stars. I want you to look up as you go to sleep and know Mom and I are watching over you."_

"_Mom?" Alan asked with a slight tremor in his voice._

_John smiled. "Yep. See this star – the really bright one here?" When Alan nodded, John ruffled his brother's hair. "This is the star I discovered and named for Mom."_

_Alan looked at the star in wonderment. "Johnny, can we put my bed right under that star?"_

_Pressing a kiss into the ten-year-old's hair, John grinned. "That was the plan, little man. That was the plan."_

Before the different ceiling really began to bother Alan, he realized that something was choking him. Alan began to try and move, desperate to get rid of whatever was choking him.

* * *

"You agreed to _what_, Dad?" Virgil sputtered.

"What?" Gordon snapped. "Because Dad can see that Paul Han was almost as much a victim here as Alan, he's wrong in not demanding a pound of flesh? The DA has said they will nail Barry the Bastard to the wall."

Jeff sighed. "I thought a lot about this. And I trust Brains' opinion. He thinks Paul Han deserves another chance. If approved, the boy can go on to get his degree and become a contributing member of society."

"And what about Alan?" John asked softly. "What if he's paralyzed?"

Looking solemn, Jeff placed a hand on his second son's shoulder. "We have to have faith in Alan, John. He survived until we found him. Alan also kept fighting when the medical odds were against him. And if he is paralyzed? We'll deal with it then. But the more I learn about Paul – and even the more I am learning about Alan – the more I am convinced this is the right decision. Alan would want Paul to have a second chance."

"Fine, whatever," Virgil groaned. "Since no one wanted our opinion, I guess there is nothing we can do, anyhow."

"Nope," Gordon said cheerfully. "But may I suggest – no one tell Scott."

As the four men nodded, their hearts suddenly dropped when they saw Scott in the doorway of Alan's room.

"Hey!" Scott yelled. "I need help! Someone help!"

* * *

_**A/N - SOMEONE said they don't like where I ended it. Tough.**_

**_Alan - TOUGH? How can you say tough? Did you just stop my heart again?_**

**_CC - Of course not, Alan. Not at this time._**

**_Alan sighs in relief until CC continues._**

**_CC- But I reserve the right to hurt you more later._**

**_Alan - (Mutters) Evil, evil woman._**

**_CC - (Blushes) Aw, Alan - you are as big a flirt as Gordon._**

**_Alan - I thought you hated Gordon. _**

**_CC - Nah. He challanges me and I love a challenge._**

**_Alan - You are enjoying this._**

**_CC- Of course I am. Over 300 reviews for only seventeen chapter? As I am fine tuning chapters 19-21, I am thinking 400 reviews by then, easy. People love how badly I am whumping you, dude!_**

**_Alan - OK, I didn't want to do this by I am bringing in the big guns. Tin! (she runs in, kissing Alan on the cheek)_**

**_Tin-Tin - Why are you hurting Alan? You know I can whump you right back._**

**_CC - (Grins in such a way that people wet themselves) - I have two words for you Tin Tin...(dramatic pause) Teenage pregnancy._**

**_Tin-Tin - (gives Alan another quick peck) Bye, hun._**

**_CC - (looks smug at Alan) - Give in Alan. I will always win. The victor writes history._**

**_Alan - (Pounds head against wall) Why me? Huh?_**

**_CC - Because I am too wet and tired to do more. We got six inches of rain, which so bites. But the good news is I wrote a whole new chapter, which I will post soon. And wait until you see what I am gonna do then. (Sits and smiles up at Alan.) Wanna watch TV. I recorded the last ep of Numb3rs (hopefully the season and not the series). Kate's uncle got married and her dad proposed to her mom. Very sweet._**

**_Alan (sighs and sits down next to CC) One of my family next down, prefer unthreatened and unbribed...If you don't mind._**

**_CC - Nope, not in the least. Popcorn? _**

**_Alan - Sure. Hey - (looks at CC in suspicion) It's not gonna turn out I am allegic to popcorn._**

**_CC - Hmm. Good idea but lets save that for another story._**

**_Alan - Sounds good. (grabs some popcorn) OK, well - hey this is good._**

**_CC -(smiles) Told ya. Now relax..._**

**_Alan - With you around? As Parker would say - "Not bloody likely."_**

_**CC - (grins) Yep. Soda? So at least hush. We're getting to the wedding scene. (looks out) OK, you guys review and I'll be back later in the week, ok?**_


	19. It's Hard for Me to Listen

**Left by the Wayside **

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - See Chapter One**_

**_Here ya go - bit more. A touch of fluff will sweeten the pot when I tell you...I may not be back for a few days. My Mom is having surgery tomorrow, so between work and everything else, I probably won't post again until Monday or Tuesday at the soonest. The good news? No cliffie at the end of this chapter. Bad news? I am not done yet, so that will come soon enough._**

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen – Hard for me to listen**

Jeff thought his heart was going to pound straight out of his chest. Alan! They had only left him for a moment. The four men ran back the short distance to the hallway, only to find themselves pushed aside by medical personnel.

"Alan!" Nurse Allison Fox called out loudly to the teenager. "Alan, you have to keep calm. We've paged your doctor, and we'll get the breathing tube out soon. But you need to keep calm."

Scott had been pushed to the back and was fighting to get back through, only for one of the orderlies to hold him back. But Jeff was either luckier or more determined as he made his way to his son's side.

"Alan!" Jeff said firmly, placing his hands on either side of the teen's face. "Son, you have to calm down. Look at me. I won't let anyone hurt you, I promise."

Alan may have been unable to make a sound but his eyes spoke volumes as they looked up at his father with absolute love and trust.

Seeing his youngest son's blue orbs shine with such emotions humbled Jeff. Leaning closer, he whispered into Alan's ear. "Allie, I am so sorry about when you called. I promise, I will explain. But for now, you need to stay calm, ok?"

Dr. Pierce forced her way through the people gathered in the room. Snagging a pair of gloves, she checked Alan's vitals even as she smiled down at the youngest Tracy.

"Well, welcome back, Alan," she grinned. "If you're ready, I can get that tube out."

Alan gave a small nod as Shana and Allison pulled the adhesive securing the tube to Alan's face. "OK, Alan," Allison encouraged. "When I count to three, you need to give a big cough and Dr. Pierce can remove the tube. Ready?"

There was another small nod even as Allison readied the oxygen mask, knowing that they would have Alan on it when he was first free of the tube. "Alright, Alan – one, two, three!"

Alan let out a grating cough as the physician pulled out the tube. A series of small, hacking cough were soothed by the oxygen coming from the mask that was settled over his face. "D-Dad?" he huskily whispered behind the mask.

"Try not to talk for now, Alan," Shana said with a smile. "We'll be leaving the mask on for at least an hour. If your stats look good, I'll switch you to a nasal cannula. If that sounds OK with you?"

Nodding weakly, Alan shakily raised his hand, only for Jeff to grasp it and pull it close. "I'm here, Alan. You'll be ok."

"Wh-what ha-happened?" Alan whispered.

Jeff sucked in his breath. Since Alan had been hit from behind, he may have been confused, but – What to tell his son?

"You were in an accident, Alan," John said finally, having managed to get to his father's side as the medical personnel began to back away, leaving only Allison and Shana next to the bed.

"Alan, don't worry about it, ok?" Scott said gently, placing a hand on Alan's leg.

As Gordon and Virgil switched places with the doctor and nurse, they both smiled at their youngest brother.

Alan looked at his family in confusion. "A-All h-here?"

Gordon was the first to pick up what had Alan confused. "Don't worry, Sprout. LP let the word out that we were unavailable for now. Other people are just going to have to pick up the slack."

A small smile crossed Alan's face, even as his eyes drooped. "Not as w-well."

Jeff ran a hand over his youngest son's cheek, returning the smile. "Don't try and talk, Alan. We aren't going anywhere."

Virgil had been watching Dr. Pierce as she loosened the blankets by Alan's feet. The rest of the family was focused on the teen's face, trying to sooth him back to sleep. But as the doctor repeatedly ran a small pen-like object over his brother's feet and legs, the middle Tracy son became more and more concerned at how Alan was not reacting. He knew how ticklish Alan was, especially on his feet. Pulling a key from his pocket, Virgil ran it over his brother's arm.

Alan flinched, pulling at his arm. "Wh-what g-gives, Virg?" he huskily whispered behind the mask.

"Nothing, Sprout," Virgil said softly. "You need to rest. I know you just woke up, but remember what I told you about needing more sleep when hurt or sick."

Nodding weakly, Alan drifted back off to sleep.

Dr. Pierce turned to leave as Allison Fox adjusted Alan's blankets. Virgil moved quickly to stop the physician before she could leave.

"I saw what you were doing," Virgil whispered. "Is Alan paralyzed?"

Sighing, Shana looked over at her patient. "I don't know. He's unresponsive to stimuli on his feet and legs, but early results of the scans show there is still a lot of swelling. That could be why there is no response. Alan is also still heavily medicated. I just don't know."

Virgil's jaw trembled for a moment, as he looked over at his happy family, watching over his youngest brother as the teenager fell asleep. Sucking in his breath, he moved back to the bed, unwilling to say anything to his family. They didn't need to have their bubble burst.

* * *

Sheila lingered in the hall for a moment, making sure she was standing close enough to the elevator that it looked as if she were waiting for one. Seeing Allison Fox return to the nurses' station with a smile on her face, the medical assistant wondered what was up. But when Dr. Pierce approached the desk, Sheila stepped further away. Looking around quickly, the MA made sure Linda wasn't around as that nurse knew she had no business in ACCU.

"OK, Allison," Dr. Pierce sighed. "I'm ordering some blood workup for Alan and I want Respiratory to come check on him. Tell -" the young doctor paused as she tried to recall who was on call today for that department.

"Tell Dr. Corrigan that I'd appreciate that as a STAT. If possible, I want Alan on a nasal cannula in sixty to ninety minutes but I want to be sure his lungs will support that."

"Yes, Dr. Pierce," Allison said, looking back at the room they had both emerged from. She smiled as she thought of the family within and how happy they were. The nurse sent a prayer up that the joy would continue and not be tempered by any long-term effects.

Looking up at the nurse who had been working here summers for years and now was back full-time, Shana smiled. "One thing at a time, Allison. Alan is awake and lets have the Tracys be happy about that."

As the elevator dinged and the doors opened, Sheila slipped into the car, a smirk on her face. She knew where Alan Tracy was and better than that – for now, at least – she had an exclusive for Ana.

* * *

Nathan Matthews knocked quickly on the door, entering the conference room with a cheerful grin.

"Well, Ms. Desrocher, I am sure you plan on trying to suppress your client's confession, which may be hard. But here is your copy of the initial report on the Crime Scene Unit's work. And here is the statement from Paul Han, the other senior in the car and the victim in the assault and unlawful imprisonment charges against Bozo - I mean, Barry."

Sitting down across from Barry and his attorney, Matthews leaned forward. "So, even on the bizarre chance that the confession gets tossed, we have enough to nail your client to the wall. How about he makes it best for everyone and just pleads guilty."

"Why should I?" Barry practically screamed. "How about the fact that one of the Tracys beat me up, huh?"

"Your nose isn't broke – unfortunately – and most of what Scott Tracy did was in an attempt to restrain a fleeing suspect in his brother's assault case."

"But what about the blow to my client's face, Detective?" Lorraine asked.

"Your client," Matthews snarled, "had just admitted to running down a fifteen year old boy and called him "trash". The family was understandably upset."

"And John Tracy's threats?" the lawyer coolly responded.

"I really don't think he's the sort to make a threat," Matthews said sardonically. Leaning back, he stared at the suspect. "You just don't get it, do you? Forget the Tracys and how much they love the family baby. Now, to you, Alan Tracy is just some rich kid who gets all the breaks. Well, let me tell you what a jury will see. On the one hand, we have you – A jock, who liked to party and drove drunk. Your own family is so disgusted by you that they have effectively disowned you."

Seeing he had Barry's attention, he continued. "Then we have Alan Tracy. Youngest son of a man who is still considered one of the most admired, respected people on the _planet._ The kid lost his mother when he was only three, he had some problems over the years but has been making a real effort to grow up and take responsibility. He made honors and qualified for advanced placement courses. Made the track team, something your actions may have made a moot point. Was registered and approved to tutor next year at a program sponsored by Wharton's at the Y. His entire family dropped everything; put their lives on hold, to race here. First to find him, then to stay by his side at the hospital."

Smirking, the detective leaned forward again. "So who do you think the jury will want to hang up by his thumbs – a kid who was born middle class, had opportunities most would do anything for but threw them away to party or the kid who happened to be born to money, but still made his own path, not one his father bought, but one he worked hard for – a path you may have destroyed by your stupidity. You are going to be one of the least sympathetic defendants in history."

"What kind of deal is the DA offering?" Lorraine asked.

"No deals," Matthews said bluntly.

"What kind of deal did Paul Han get?" she snapped.

"Paul refused any deal," Matthews said. "He admitted his guilt and simply gave his statement. I spoke with his lawyer and Paul has already spoken to members of the Tracy Family to apologize. Jeff Tracy has even agreed with the sentencing recommendation."

"Who is his rep?" Lorraine asked, considering who in the public defenders office she could maybe work with to help her own client.

"Peter Tagalakis," Matthews smirked. "And before you ask, he was hired by the father of one of Paul's classmates."

"Who's this Tagiwatsis?" Barry broke in.

Lorraine sighed. "He's a rather good, much respected defense attorney. He heads the Project Innocence for New England. What kind of sentencing will Paul Han be getting?"

"Five years probation, community service and counseling," Matthews smiled.

Lorraine sputtered, "Wh-what!"

"Face it," the detective shrugged, "Paul wasn't driving, tried to come forward, admitted his guilt as soon as he could, was sincerely repentant, has plenty of people speaking up for him and has a lot more potential to stay out of trouble than your client. By the way, we found your planner in your room, Barry. The DEA would like to thank you for those contact names of drug dealers, both here in Western Massachusetts and in Iowa."

Matthews stood and glared at Barry. "Now, your lawyer has a meeting with the DA this afternoon. You were supposed to head to county lock-up this morning, but due to some issues they are having, we have been asked to hold you until tomorrow afternoon." At the lawyer's confused look, he shrugged. "The sump pumps failed and the processing areas flooded. They need to clean up and get them repaired, so no new prisoners until tomorrow."

Opening the door, Matthews nodded. "Try to impart the wisdom of keeping his mouth shut to your client, will you? He's really starting to piss-off the cops around here."

"Detective Matthews!"

The Detective turned to see an officer running up to him. "The hospital called and said to tell you – Alan Tracy woke up."

Matthews smiled, never noticing the look of hatred on Barry's face. But his lawyer was appalled. How the hell was she supposed to defend this little sociopath and keep her career intact?

* * *

Peter Tagalakis returned to the hospital, a bounce in his step. He had called Hiram Hackenbacker and asked the man to make a donation to the Innocence Project instead of paying him a fee. It had all fallen together easily and the attorney was happy to be representing Paul Han. Paul was a good kid and if anyone had deserved a second chance, it was his client.

A security officer stopped him at the door. "Sir, can I see some ID and ask what your business is here today?"

"Certainly," Peter nodded. "And I'm here to visit Paul Han in room 232. May I ask what the fuss is?"

"Some reporter announced that Alan Tracy woke up and in the last fifteen minutes, we've either blocked the entrance of or removed from the premises, eleven members of the press." Shaking his head, the security officer looked frustrated. "I met the family yesterday and they're good people. These parasites should leave them alone." Sighing he waived the attorney into the hospital.

"Imagine how much worse they would be if Alan had died," Peter said sardonically as he entered Baystate Medical Center, shaking his head as he walked towards the elevators.

Turning back to his station, the security officer could only nod in agreement. He was relieved that Alan Tracy was going to live not only for the family but also for himself. If the teenager had died, it would be impossible to keep the media out. Sadly, nothing sold air time like tragedies of the rich and famous.

* * *

Paul Han looked up and smiled as Linda and Peter Tagalakis came into his room. As the nurse checked his vitals, the attorney pulled up a chair.

"Did you hear? Alan's awake," Paul told them cheerfully.

Linda smiled, having been there when Shana was paged to the younger boy's room.

Peter nodded as well, before asking, "Well, I knew but how did you find out?"

Picking up the remote from where he had dropped it. "It was breaking news on New England News Channel. Isn't that awesome!"

Biting back his laughter at the young man's exuberance, Peter nodded once more. "Well, the DA signed off on your paperwork. Wharton Academy has said they would appreciate it if you accepted your diploma by mail. You, um, have a life-time ban from the grounds of the school. So even if a friend or family member were to attend, you will not be allowed on any property of Wharton's. Um, further, they asked me to tell you, you will not be the salutatorian."

Paul stared at his lap. He knew he shouldn't be hurt. Wharton's had expelled Barry, according to the news, so his ex-friend wouldn't even have a diploma. Not to mention, Barry's athletic scholarship had been withdrawn. Crutcher College hadn't even mentioned the pending criminal charges but only said that as the boy had been expelled by Wharton's, he was no longer eligible as an incoming freshman.

Chewing on his lower lip, Paul listened silently as Peter Tagalakis said a few more things but nothing really drew his focus until the attorney mentioned that the police officer outside his door was being removed. "After all, you are not facing any unresolved charges and with a certain person safely behind bars, you should be fine."

Patting the younger man's shoulder in a paternal gesture, the attorney walked towards the door, assuring Paul that he was making arrangements for his property to be picked up from Wharton's before Paul would have to appear before a judge as a formality to the plea agreement being read in court.

"Ma'am," Paul asked politely just as Linda made to follow the attorney out of the room.

"Yes, Paul?"

"Is it possible for me to be out of this room for a little while?"

Linda thought for a moment then nodded. "I don't see a problem. I'll check with your doctor and then see if we don't have any candy stripers floating around. Some of the high schools are already out so the volu-teens program is just getting started. Maybe I can find a cute one for you? And if I can't, well - I guess I can spare a few minutes."

Paul blushed as he stuttered out a thank-you. As Linda left, he leaned back, feeling the need to resolve one more part of his life.

Paul had to see Alan Tracy and apologize for leaving him by the wayside.

* * *

_**A/N - OK, more next week. In the mean time, reviews would brighten my life. Hmmm. Think we could get to 350 soon? Or is that pushing it? That is only um, 24.**_

**_That is pushy? So? I've already been called a psycho bee-at-ch. Why not a pushy one? See ya all soon. - CC_**


	20. It's Not Me You're Angry With

**Left by the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**Disclaimer - See Chapters 1-19, duh.**

**Well, not at 350 yet but oh, so close. This is, however, no officially my most reviewed story to date. Glad you like. For all those who sent positive wishes for my mom, the surgery went well but there were some post-op complications. THIS IS IN NO WAY INFLUENCING THE STORY - PROMISE! So instead of being discharged Sunday afternoon or Monday morning, Mom is scheduled to be discharged Wednesday morning. Here's hoping...**

**

* * *

**

Chapter Twenty – Its Not Me You're Angry With

Alan lay sleeping in his room, his family happy to be keeping watch on their youngest member. The pulmonologist had come and gone, happy to report that Alan's breathing was surprisingly good and he could see no reason for Alan not to change to a nasal cannula.

"He should be kept on oxygen for at least forty-eight hours," Dr. Corrigan told Allison as she noted it on Alan's chart. "But after that, as long as his breathing remains normal, he can come off of it."

"Atta boy, Alan," Gordon said, smiling at his only little brother from the foot of his bed.

Dr. Corrigan smiled at the family and left, reminding Allison to call him if there were any problems.

Turning to face the family, the nurse raised an eyebrow. "You know, if this were my Brady, he would want to know what the death watch was for."

Gordon grinned, gesturing to Allison. "I like this woman."

"You like all women, Gordy," Virgil muttered.

Shana Pierce entered the room, looking at the gathered Tracys. "OK, Dad here needs to go to lunch. No vending machine. Maddie says you did well at breakfast." Looking at the brothers, she frowned. "And how much am I willing to bet you four did Dunkins' for breakfast?"

The three middle brothers raised guilty hands but it was Scott's stoney silence that drew both the doctor and Jeff's attention. Scott wilted under the twin glares.

"I wasn't hungry, OK?"

"No," Shana said firmly. "I insisted your father eat right and sleep, since Alan will need him at his best, but both Alan and your father need you healthy. Mr. Tracy, I think you and at least Scott should head down for some lunch. Maddie will be waiting for you."

"I don't need to -"

"Yes, you do," a soft voice said. It took a moment for the family to realize it was Alan.

"Hey, Al," John smiled at his little brother who was staring at their older sibling.

"Scott, you get cranky when you don't eat. And my head hurts enough." Alan sighed when the second comment drew five worried looks. The only person not in the room not looking worried was Dr. Pierce, who would have been surprised if Alan's head hadn't hurt. The boy had received a skull fracture, even if it had been a minor one.

Virgil stood up, snagging his father and oldest brother by the elbows. "C'mon guys. We'll get something to eat, and then switch off with these two, so Alan isn't alone. And we'll eat here at the hospital to make sure we are here if Al needs us."

"I don't know -" Jeff started.

"Go Dad," Alan said tiredly but softened it with a smile.

Jeff returned the smile and bent down to press a kiss on Alan's forehead. "OK, Sprout – but we'll be back soon."

Once the three left the room, Shana approached the bed. "Alright, Alan – what's wrong?"

Gordon and John sat upright at that, but Alan just sighed. "I feel like crap, but if I said that in front of Dad and Scott, I don't know who would have a heart attack first."

"Who told you about Dad's attack?" Gordon asked in surprise.

"Dad had a heart attack?" Alan cried out in panic. "When, how?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Shana said softly as she dropped Alan's wrist, all thoughts of taking his pulse ended. "Your father didn't have a heart attack. He did collapse while you were in surgery yesterday." When Alan, who had begun to regain some color, paled again, the doctor continued quickly.

"There was a false news story, it upset your father and he collapsed."

"Alan," John explained gently, "they said you were dead. Dad had fallen asleep on the couch and we had all stepped out of the room for a few minutes. When Dad heard that -"

Tears gathered in John's eyes as he picked up Alan's hand and brushed a kiss onto it, much as he had when his brother was a child. "It was Dad's worse nightmare come to life."

Looking John straight in the eye, Alan recalled his brother telling him about Jeff having nightmares of the Bank of London and of Tin Tin not arriving in time, of having to watch his youngest son fall to his death. Taking in a shuddering breath, Alan returned a squeeze to John's hand in his.

"But Dad's ok, right?"

Gordon grinned. "Yeah, but the big guy has been given strict orders to reduce his stress levels and caffeine intake."

Alan chuckled. "OK, who's the brave soul who is going to enforce that one?"

Dr. Pierce had continued to examine her patient while his brothers distracted the teenager. Making some notes, Shana set the electronic notepad down and moved the blanket and started to shift Alan's surgical top.

"Hey!" Alan complained.

"Alan, I need to look at your surgical sites," Shana said calmly. "And I am neither impressed by nor interested in your body beyond professional reasons."

"Not to mention," Gordon joked, "she's married."

"Dang, John," Alan grinned before grunting in discomfort. "Another prospect for a daughter-in-law snatched away before Dad can promote you or Scott."

"I can find my own future wife, thank you very much," John sniped.

"Yeah, right," Alan grunted again as Shana continued to examine him. "That would explain my lack of nieces or nephews."

John watched Dr. Pierce as she readjusted Alan's top and blanket. "Well? Is there a problem?"  
Dr. Pierce had picked up Alan's chart and was making notes. "Post-operative infections are not uncommon, Alan. You may be developing one. We'll keep an eye on you and I am going to run some labs. We'll probably start you on some anti-biotics."

Allison, still standing a few feet from the bed, stepped forward to take the electronic note pad from the physician. "I'll put in the orders." Grinning at Alan, she turned to leave. "Expect a visit from the Vampire Crew, kiddo."

Moving restlessly on the bed, Alan grumbled, "Just as long as they don't sparkle. I mean, vampires that sparkle – get real."

* * *

Jeff led the way back down to the café, smiling slightly when he saw Maddie. The volunteer beamed when she saw the men enter the dining area.

"Now, hello again. I see you're back. And brought some company this time."

Nodding, Jeff looked over at the patio. "Any room out on the patio?"

Maddie grinned. "Allison told me to save a table for you out there."

As the three men walked towards the patio, Scott asking quietly, "Are you sure it's a good idea? I mean, telephoto lenses and all -"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," Maddie cheerfully said over her shoulder. "The hedges were planted years ago, and block the patio. There is also a garden area that can't be accessed. When your boy gets a bit stronger, you may want to take him for walks out there."

As the three Tracys sat down, Maddie looked sad. "Dr. Axtell spearheaded the drive to plant them. After what our Shana went though -"

"Shana?" Virgil asked in surprise as he sat at the table. "Dr. Pierce? Our brother's doctor?"

Maddie cocked her head and smiled. "So, your boy is the one from the ER yesterday? Shana was in a tizzy about that one. Well, yes. The media bothered Shana a great deal while she was recovering here."

"Why?" Scott queried.

"Shana's mother was a respected doctor here at the hospital and her father was a US Senator. Surviving the accident that killed her parent wasn't bad enough; the reporters kept trying to get pictures of that poor girl. We didn't have a separate unit between pediatrics and adolescents back then, so I was one of her main nurses."

Jeff leaned back. "Senator Jordan Pierce. I remember the accident. I remembered hearing about a surviving child, but – Well, I was distracted at the time."

"Anything important?" Maddie teased, even as a younger woman walked over with some menus. The volunteer picked them from her hands and shooed the other woman away.

Nodding, Jeff gave a small smile. "Alan was born that same week. There were some complications. So between a frantic wife, four sons at home and a baby in the NICU, I had more pressing issues."

Maddie smiled in approval as she turned and started to leave, stopping when Scott spoke up

"Well, since we are here to eat, shouldn't we have menus or something? Because if not, I'll be happy to grab something from the cafeteria and head back up to Alan's room."

Striding back to the table, Maddie swatted Scott's head with the menus in her hand. "Your brother had surgery on his stomach yesterday. That means no food today, and he may be allowed liquids tomorrow. Are you going to be mean and eat in front of that boy?" Seeing Scott lean back, a slightly sulky look on his face, Maddie smiled. "Does that look honestly work for you since you passed the age of ten?"

Jeff and Virgil tried not to laugh at the indignant look on Scott's face. Maddie simply shrugged.

"Three steak ceaser salads, with ice tea. I'll also have them bring you wheat rolls as well. And if you eat all of your salad, I'll see if we don't have some of that devil's food cake left over."

A small smile crossed Jeff's face as he nudged Virgil. His middle son returned the smile as they watched Maddie walk away. "Yeah," Virgil murmured. "She is a lot like Grandma."

* * *

Paul sat in a wheelchair, just outside of Alan's room. Linda was at the nurses' station, talking animatedly to a nurse Paul knew he recognized... But from where? Then the second nurse glanced over at Paul, a look of concern on her face. It was then that Paul recognized Allison Fox, who used to be a school nurse at Wharton's. After a minute, she made a "wait a minute" motion with her hand and went back into Alan's room. Paul was worried, what if Alan's family wouldn't let him see the teen? Worse – what if Alan refused to see him?

A few minutes later, she came back out and held open the door. Linda, taking that for the invitation it was, pushed Paul's wheelchair into Alan's room.

"Hey Paul," Alan smiled from the bed, moving restlessly for a moment before settling down. Seeing the senior in a wheelchair, Alan suddenly frowned.

"Did you have a bad seizure? Is that why you are in the hospital? You need to get better fast, you don't want to miss giving your speech."

Paul looked at the two Tracy brothers in the room with Alan, confusion plain on his face. Gordon, taking pity on him, explained.

"Alan doesn't know much about the accident, just that he was hit by a car. The doctors want us to wait a bit, saying it would be best if there are any memories for Alan to retrieve them on his own. He also needs to talk to the police."

Concerned about the way Paul was looking at him, Alan glanced at his brothers.

"John, Gordy – Can Paul and I talk alone for a minute?"

"Alan, I don't -" John started only for Gordon to interrupt him.

"That'll be fine, Al. We'll be right outside."

As Gordon dragged a reluctant John from the room, Allison and Linda exchanged looks with the ACCU nurse shrugging. She liked both boys but was worried about Alan's reaction. Finally she sighed.

"Only a couple of minutes, Paul."

"Thanks, Mrs. Fox," Paul said softly. "It's nice to see you again."

"Likewise, Paul," Allison answered as she left the room with Linda.

"So," Alan drawled. "What's the trauma and drama?"

"Alan," Paul started, sighing deeply. "I was in the car that hit you."

Confused, the blonde tilted his head. "But you can't drive; Fermat told me."

"No, I wasn't driving," Paul confessed. "But I was in the car. Barry had convinced me to go out with him. We – we were drinking."

Sighing, Alan looked at Paul in disappointment. "Well, that was dumb. But it was an accident and I'm gonna live, so -"

"It gets worse," Paul confessed. "We – we left you. We knew we had hit you and I let Barry talk me into leaving you. You weren't found until the next day. You could have died waiting for help because I was such a coward."

Flashes of pain, arguing voices and more pain popped into Alan's mind, making him freeze. "So –So – You just left me to die? And I am supposed to say, well, ok – I'm fine. Don't worry. It's all good now?"

Tears welling up, Paul shook his head. "No. I wouldn't blame you if you never forgave me. But I did want you to know I was going to come forward. Barry – well, let's just say Barry is a bigger creep than anyone at Wharton's knew. He clubbed me and stuffed me in a freezer. I had at least one seizure in there. And you know the irony? It was your dad and the cop leading the search for you that found me. The doctor says if I had been in there when I had the seizure I had in-route to the hospital, I probably would have died. And I did tell your dad where you were, when they pulled me out of the freezer."

Breathing hard with suppressed emotion, Paul looked back to Alan. "I didn't ask for any deals. I refused them saying I deserved whatever was coming to me. But Fermat's dad got me a good lawyer and the DA agreed I deserved a second chance. I'll get probation and community service but I still get to go on with my life. Wharton's took the salutatorian spot from me and I'll get my diploma by mail. It's better than what Barry got by a long shot, though."

"What's happening with him?" Alan asked, confused if he wanted to even know.

"As I understand it, the DA is going after him for everything he can. If Barry was even the least bit sorry for what happened, maybe it would be different. But he's not. He actually blames you and me for all this."

Shaking his head at the stupidity of the guy he thought had been his friend, Paul continued. "So, even if you can never forgive me – I just wanted you to know how sorry I was."

Paul started trying to turn his wheelchair when he stopped at Alan's soft "Wait."

Looking at his former schoolmate, Alan sighed. "Paul, you were always a nice guy. I can't say I'm good with this, but I know you would never hurt me on purpose. Barry probably would."

At Paul's surprised laugh, Alan gave a bitter bark of laughter. "You think I never heard him? Anything I got, supposedly "Daddy" bought for me. My Dad doesn't roll that way. He expects us to work hard, to the best of our abilities. He always says he expects us to do our best. Not better than others, but our own personal best. And I was really trying."

"Barry's a jerk."

"No duh," Alan answered. "And if you hadn't been with him, Barry probably would have covered up everything so that I wouldn't have been found in time."

Paul nodded, knowing that was exactly what would have happened. As he started to leave once more, Alan stopped him again.

"Um, Paul – has anyone said anything to you about my condition?"

Surprised, Paul turned back, rolling straight over to Alan's bed. "A bit. Why?"

Alan stared at his hands for a moment before looking at Paul, tears in his eyes. "I am really hoping it's the meds. I don't want to say anything to my family as they are upset enough. But – but -" he stuttered before he drew in a breath and bit his lip as he forced himself to continue.

"I can't feel my legs."

* * *

Gordon looked out the window, smiling at the young couple enjoying a lunch in the garden and a harried looking father chasing after a little girl. Nudging his brother, the redhead gestured towards the scene.

"Nice, huh?"

John looked down and shrugged. "I guess." He looked back at Alan's door. "Maybe we should -"

"Let Alan talk with Paul. The kid will be fine."

Nodding, John surprised Gordon by agreeing. "Yeah. He probably will." Looking around to make sure no one could hear them. "Do you know what bothers Alan the most about Spring Break? That none of the people who hurt our family regretted it. The only thing they regretted was that we lived and that they didn't get revenge. Or money."

"Alan's a good kid," Gordon agreed. "But I think Paul is, too. And both of them need forgiveness – one to give and one to receive."

Turning from the window, John observed his younger sibling carefully. How much was Gordon still holding over his own head?

"Gordon -" he began only to be interrupted.

"Gordons!" A young voice called out with joy.

Little Allen Ballard ran towards the brothers, a young woman running behind him. The tot threw his arms around Gordon's legs and beamed up at him.

Taking Allen's hands in his, Gordon knelt down in front of him. "Hey, kiddo. I see you are feeling better. Where's your big brother?"

The young woman froze. "Um, hi. You must be Gordon. Allen has been talking about you. A lot." A small smile came to her face as she brushed back a bit of the little boy's hair. "I'm his sister, Heather. I was taking the tiny terrorist back to his room which is that-a-way," she pointed towards a hallway marked Pediatrics.

Gordon nodded. "Yeah, we met in the waiting room over there. So I met Trevor then as well."

"He told me," Heather said. "The doctor told me Allen would be asleep for several hours. So I went to take care of the final arrangements for our mom. I figured it would be one less thing Trev had to deal with."

"Ours Mommy died," Allen solemnly told John. "And Daddy must be real sad 'cause he hasn't been back."

"An arrest warrant may be helping with that," Heather muttered bitterly but Allen continued to chatter with Gordon.

Before either Tracy could say anything, Trevor Ballard came running towards them. Seeing his big brother, Allen beamed. "Trebor! Yous back."

Taking his brother into his arms, Trevor pressed a kiss on the boy's head. "Heya, little man. The doc ok'd a popsicle. Heather, can you take him to his room? The nurses said they'll grab it for him as soon as he was in his bed."

As the pair left, Gordon commented, "He seems to be recovering well."

Trevor looked bitter. "Yeah, for now. But he is a diabetic and the accident seems to have made a mess of his labs. And he bruised his kidneys badly, the last thing a diabetic needs. Mom is dead now and who knows where the hell our father is."

John looked sympathetic. "Hey, he may have trouble dealing with your mother's death, but he's still your father."

Anger flashed in the Marine's eyes. "Our sorry excuse for a father is the damn drunk who killed Mom. And he could have killed Allen. All because he was furious Mom was leaving him. My commander was sympathetic and helped me arrange off-base housing for my family so my mom could leave that ass. Part of me wishes she had done it eight years ago like she had planned." Looking in the direction his siblings had taken, Trevor sighed.

"But then we wouldn't have Allen. And I don't know how to tell him that not only is his Mommy dead, but Daddy wasn't sick. Daddy was a stupid drunk bastard who wanted to kill his wife and small son rather than let them leave him." Running a hand over his buzz cut, Trevor bit his lip.

"I can't prove that, at least that's what the cops said. But they will arrest him for drunk driving, vehicular homicide, vehicular assault and leaving the scene of the accident. And hopefully, we'll be long gone before they catch up with him."

Shrugging, Trevor motioned towards Gordon. "So, um, if you have a chance, Allen would love to see you. Or else he'll keep tracking down your family like he did with your dad. I mean if your Alan can spare you."

Gordon chuckled. "We outnumber you two to one. I think I can come down a few times." Pulling out a small note pad, he scribbled down something and handed it to Trevor.

"I'd love to keep in touch. This is my personal e-mail account. And let me know if Allen needs anything."

Tucking the piece of paper in his pocket, Trevor sighed. "Can you give him back his mom?" Smiling sadly, he turned and walked back down to rejoin his family.

Or what was left of it.

* * *

Dr. Ginny Krutz reviewed the patient listings for the ACCU. With only five patients – one having been discharged an hour earlier – the unit was not assigned one doctor at the moment. Dr. Krutz, a pediatric resident, disliked working in ACCU. At least in AICU, the teenagers were mainly unconscious or so drugged as not to be a bother.

Smaller children listened when the pediatrician spoke, but teenagers tended to talk back and not give her the respect that she deserved. Looking back at the listing, Ginny saw that most of the patients had no outstanding orders. Just as she was about to log off, something popped up.

Allison looked over at the screen. "Oh, Alan's labs are back." Looking them over, the nurse nodded. "I'll call Dr. Pierce. She'll want to give the orders for anti-biotics."

"I'm right here," Ginny snapped.

"And," Linda snapped from the other side, "he is Dr. Pierce's patient." Looking over at the Tracys, she nodded. "I better get Paul back down to his room."

Dr. Krutz looked on in resentment as the two nurses headed off, effectively ignoring her. _Dr. Pierce! Stupid Shana Pierce, who everyone adores and worships. And her patient is Alan Tracy. Figures – two spoiled rich kids who get everyone to do whatever they want._

Looking at the labs, the pediatrician shrugged. All the kid needs is some antibiotics. No reason to have the wonder-kid, Shana Pierce - she who thinks she can control everything and everybody - have to rush up here. It would be easy enough to take care of, and then she could get back to Pediatrics, where she was listened to. Reaching into the medicine cabinet, Dr. Krutz pulled out a pre-loaded needle. _Just a shot of penicillin in his IV, then I can head out of this unit._

* * *

_**A/N - Well, that should do it...**_

_**Alan - Hold on there! Do you know what that annoying doctor is doing?**_

_**CC - Yes, and if the readers have been following closely, then they know what is about to happen.**_

_**Alan - So it's not bad enough I can't feel my legs, I've discovered that a sociopathic classmate tried to kill me and had to act more mature than most of my family, you are gonna ^%*^$$%^$. I said, you are going to (*&*&^*&%*^%^. Um, CC - why can't I said those words?**_

_**CC - Because if you do, it will give away the plot. If someone can't remember, they have to go back and reread the needed chapters. But all the clues are there. Kind of like a history final.**_

_**Alan - You really are sick and twisted you know.**_

_**CC (beaming) - Aw, gee - thanks Alan!**_

_**Alan (sighs) - I need back up.**_

_**John (enters) - Like what, Sprout?**_

_**Alan - Oh, no - she bribed you with chocolate cake.**_

_**CC - I'm out of cake, Alan. But if it makes you feel better, you are at least in the hospital. Your odds of survival are so much better.**_

_**Alan - JOHN!**_

_**John - CC, I know you have had a rough week or so, but stop picking on Alan like that and remind him of no death fics.**_

_**CC (sniffs) - I'm sorry. I'm taking my bad mood out on you. But my Mom went in and then she had all kinds of complications...Did I ever tell you what she did when I made a bound copy of "The Tracy Family Chronicles" for her? She had me sign it. And I recorded all of the songs I used in it for her for a "soundtrack". She still considers them some of her fave things. My mom just isn't my mom. She's my best friend and my hero. The idea of anything happening to her is as bad as anything happening to Alan for the Tracy family.**_

_**Alan and John pull her onto the couch. **_

_**Alan - It's ok, CC. We're here for you. (Hands her a bowl of popcorn.)**_

_**John - Yeah, just promise to fix the toys you break and we'll be happy.**_

_**CC - I promise. BUT - I do have a new story idea. OK, Jeff and Alan walk into a bank...**_

_**Alan (banging his head on the back of the couch) - OMG! John - you know that can't end well.**_

_**John - Actually, I think it could END well. It's the in-between parts you have to worry about.**_

_**CC (grins) - I'm feeling better already, boys. Popcorn?**_


	21. Chapter 21

**Left By the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - See chapter one**_

**_Yeah! So passed 350! And thanks for all the great words for my mom. She is now home and is recovering well. Scary how fast things can go south, but luckily she was in the hospital and being monitored. A very important thing. _**

**_Oh, and I get the feeling not many of you are fans of Twilight (or Twit-lite, as I prefer). _**

**_I knew I loved you guys._**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One - It's not you I'm aiming at**

Shana Pierce entered the café, determined to make sure the Tracys were following orders. Alan may have been the only member of the family who was officially her patient, but she had quickly come to realize that his well-being and that of his family's were intrinsically linked.

"Well, I am glad to see you are listening to me," Shana smiled at the three Tracys.

Scott grumbled as he slumped in his chair. "We don't need to be here. We need to be with Alan."

Shaking her head, Shana almost laughed. "Alan needs you healthy. He is recovering faster and better than I could have ever hoped when we unloaded him yesterday. But he is still going to need you all healthy in order to be there for him."

Virgil smiled at the doctor. "This is an unusual spot for a café like this. What is up with that?"

Looking over her shoulder, Shana had a small grin looking at Maddie.

"You can blame Maddie," she shrugged. "This place was, twenty years ago, a small coffee shop run by the volunteers. Then the hospital sold the space to Dunkin Donuts, saying it made more sense to have a franchise here than the medical center being responsible. It may have been financial good sense, but between high turnover of the fast food industry and the corporate attitude, it wasn't a place most of us liked coming."

"Then, three years ago, Maddie retired from nursing. Her husband of forty years, Derek, had terminal cancer. After he passed six months later, Maddie discovered his insurance policy and the trust account."

"Trust account?" Jeff asked, curious.

Nodding sadly, Shana watched as the older woman bustled around, fussing over patrons. "Her only daughter, Evie, died in a fire when her choir was at a school competition. Three kids died and a dozen more were seriously injured. It turned out to be a case of fraud with bad parts used for the sprinkler system. The wrongful death lawsuit awarded the families eleven million dollars. As I understand it, each family still had, after the lawyers, around two million each. Derek and Maddie thought it was blood money and she always thought he gave it all away. Turned out he only gave half of it away. Derek put almost a million dollars in a trust for Maddie. By the time he was gone, it had almost tripled."

"The franchise was having trouble here and Maddie bought the space from the hospital and proceeded to turn it into this café. She wanted a place where people could relax and sit that didn't seem rushed or too hospital like."

"It wouldn't take all that money, would it?" Virgil asked, not sure how much opening a place like this would cost.

"No," Shana explained. "But the rest is in an operating fund for here so it can keep running for years. And Maddie is in heaven fussing over the people who come here. The staff encourages family members to come down here, especially if their loved one is in for anything serious. Again, we recognize that the families need to take care of themselves if they are going to take care of their loved one."

Just as Shana finished, Maddie bustled up, rolling over a small cart. After the rolls were placed in the middle of the table, the former nurse proceeded to set down four delectable looking steak ceaser salads and four glasses of ice tea.

Before the Tracys could say anything, Maddie turned to Jeff and said, "Shana can join you, right? If left to her, she would grab a sandwich between patients. But some young lady needs to remember she is now a nursing mother as well as a doctor."

Rolling her eyes, Shana grumbled, "Did you give Mom this hard a time?"

"Yep," Maddie grinned cheerfully as she pushed Shana into a chair. "Now eat, baby."

Stabbing at a piece of lettuce, the doctor looked over at the amused family after the former nurse had left. "Maddie worked with my mom for years. She sometimes forgets I am an adult."

Before the Tracys could answer, it became obvious Maddie had heard Shana when she called out – "Then act like it and eat."

As the foursome began to eat their salads, Virgil began to speak. "So your mother was – what? – a pediatrician?"

"Pediatric oncology," Shana said between bites. "Challenging, but not for everyone."

"Neither would emergency medicine be," Jeff pointed out. "But you seem to enjoy it."

Nodding, Shana concurred. "A good level one trauma team can make all the difference in certain cases. Alan is a perfect example. If BMC wasn't here, Alan's level of injures would have required being either sent to Boston or stabilized locally and transferred to Boston. I don't know if he would have survived either of those situations."

For a few minutes the main sound at the table was that of forks hitting the plates in order to devour the excellent meal. Again, it was Virgil taking the lead.

"So, you said your son was how old, Dr. Pierce?"

Shana smiled. "Please, just Shana. And actually, its sons." Pulling out her I-Phone, she pressed a button before handing it to Virgil. "My twins, Jensen and Jared, will be four months next week."

Peaking at the picture, Jeff nodded. "Cute boys. I can see a lot of you in them."

Shrugging, Shana took the phone back and answered, "Well, they may have been a bit small for being a few weeks early, which is not uncommon for multiples, but the way they are growing, they are showing promise of being their dad's size, not mine."

For the next few minutes stories of babies were exchanged between Jeff and Shana. Virgil listened in amusement while Scott tried to tune them out. He wasn't sure if his father was once again trying to make subtle hints, but Scott wasn't buying it if he was.

Just as everyone at the table was finishing, an overhead page caused them all to freeze.

_Code blue, ACCU, room seven. Code blue, ACCU, room seven. Dr. Pierce to ACCU, STAT. Dr. Pierce, to ACCU, STAT._

Jeff gasped even as he tossed money on the table for lunch. Shana had already stood up, calling to Maddie that she would "catch her later". The former nurse waved her on, used to the younger woman often having to fly out of the café. As the doctor ran from the room, the Tracys rushed to catch up with her.

Alan was in ACCU, room seven.

* * *

Paul joked and teased Alan, happy to see that the younger boy was doing his best to put what had happened behind them.

Linda walked in on the pair, smiling when she saw how relaxed they both were. "Sorry to interrupt, boys, but Paul needs to have a couple of tests before the neurologist comes to see him."

"A neurologist?" Alan asked with concern. "I thought you said you were alright, Paul?"

Paul smiled. "I am, or at least, I will be. But I've been being checked over by neurologist since I was a kid. It's not uncommon after a seizure." Seeing Alan still looked concerned, the eighteen year old tried to lighten the conversation.

"Have you seen the neurologist here?" When Alan shook his head to indicate he hadn't Paul chuckled, "You get a doc who looks like she belongs on Beverly Hills, 90210. Mine looks like he belongs on Beverly Hillbillies."

"When did you see Dr. Pierce?" Linda asked as she began to pull back on his wheelchair.

"She was talking to Dr. Gillespie when my cat scan was being finished," he explained. Grinning at Alan as they headed to the door, Paul continued. "You get lucky, Tracy. I get Uncle Jed and you get the hot chick from the beach."

All of the room's occupants gave a small chuckle that was abruptly cut off when the door snapped open. Dr. Ginny Krutz entered with a frown on her face.

"Nurse Bailey," she sniped.

"Dr. Krutz," Linda responded, not in the least bit intimidated.

"The instructions on this patient are no unauthorized visitors," Dr. Krutz said coolly.

"But I wanted to see Paul," Alan began.

Ignoring Alan, the doctor continued. "Under whose authority was this person allowed in this room?"

"Um, _hello_?" Alan smarted off. "I'm right here. I'm a big boy. I feed myself, dress myself and haven't needed anyone to wipe my butt in years. If I want to see one of my schoolmates, I certainly can."

"Teenagers," Krutz grumbled as she approached the bed. Glaring at Alan, she snapped, "You are not an adult and can not make certain decisions. Apparently, the powers that be are afraid of your father and want to make sure the undesirables are kept at a respectful distance."

"Undesirables?" Alan asked, incredulous. "More like reporters. I can't really think of any other undesirables that my father would want to protect me from."

"I can," Linda muttered, glaring at the pediatrician.

Dr. Krutz ignored the comment – to a certain degree – more annoyed when Alan and Paul both let out a childish giggle at the nurse's remark. Pulling out a syringe, she injected it into Alan's IV port.

"What's that?" Alan inquired.

"Your white blood cell count shows the signs of a beginning of an infection. I guess _someone _must have missed something in your treatment -"

Linda cut her off. "Post op infections are not uncommon. And some of the problem was how long Alan was left untreated and exposed to the elements."

"Whatever," Dr. Krutz muttered. "But you needed a shot of antibiotics and now you have one." Noting the chart, she set it down and swept out of the room.

"Wow," Alan breathed. "What an, um, interesting person."

"Great bedside manners, too," Paul joked as Linda reopened the door.

Smiling, Linda nodded. "But she makes a great witch at the Halloween party we have for the kids every year."

* * *

Seeing the door to Alan's room open, John and Gordon started heading back down the hallway. They were brought up short by a female doctor they didn't recognize.

"Excuse me," she growled as she pushed the brothers out of her way.

"When I think of one I will," Gordon snapped at her retreating back. Stepping back, he let Linda wheel Paul out of the room.

"So," Gordon asked, "are you two good?"

Paul gave a small smile. "We're getting there. I'm just glad Alan listened to me. But, um -" The older teen looked at the closed door, reluctant to give away Alan's confidence in him.

"What?" John grumbled. "Just speak up."

"You haven't talked to Alan much about his condition, have you?" Paul asked.

"What did you tell him?" John snarled.

Gordon looked at John in surprise. "Hey, Johnny – no need to be channeling Scott."

"I didn't tell Alan anything like that," Paul hurriedly explained. "But he is worried about, well, about his legs."

The brothers exchanged glances before bolting into Alan's room.

Paul sighed before giving a half smile to Linda. "OK…on to the torture tests."

Shaking her head, Linda headed the wheelchair to the elevator banks. "It's lab work and radiology."

"Same thing," Paul said cheerfully as the elevator doors slid open.

* * *

"Hey, Al," John said gently as they approached his bed. "Have a good talk with, um, him."

"His name is Paul," Alan admonished. "And if you are asking if he explained his part in my getting hurt, then yes, yes he did. But before you start going all Scott on me, let me tell you a few things. You went to high school in the same town, heck the same school, dad did. Not to mention, you had an older brother and a younger brother there. No, you didn't run in their circles. Scott was with the jocks and Virg was the arts crowd. What were you?"

John gave a small smile. "C'mon, Al – you know. I was with the geek squad."

"Well, there is no geek squad at Wharton's," Alan explained. "Yes, there are some very bright students there, Fermat included. But there are only a handful of scholarship students, most of them athletic scholarships. And everyone knows who they are. Most of the academic scholarship students are lucky to last a year. They are slighted and cut out of most of the social circles at Wharton's. Your classmates tend to have parents out of the social register, the front pages or Forbes."

"Paul's father is a first generation Chinese immigrant. He started a small organic food store by selling vegetables at Farmer's markets for four years. Some of Paul's earliest memories are bagging up vegetables and herbs. That was when Paul's math skills were first seen. He would add up prices in his head at five. If his parents had had dad's resources, he probably would be getting ready to finish college, not start it. So the scholarship offer to Wharton's was a dream come true and set him up to be in a place where schools like Cal-Sci recruit from."

Shrugging, Alan moved restlessly as his chest started to itch. "But it wasn't easy for him at Wharton's. A lot of kids give up or become bitter. Paul instead organized study groups, helped jocks – especially scholarship students – keep their eligibility, and even got Wharton's to start a tutoring program at the Y. Some of the more privileged kids are seeing how good they have it and maybe a few will become better people because of it."

Scratching at his hands, Alan felt a kind of heaviness in his chest as he continued. "He is a good person. Doesn't Dad always teach us to give people a second chance? If I deserved one, why doesn't Paul?"

"Al," Gordon remarked, "why would you need a second chance?"

His breathing was becoming more of a struggle as Alan explained. "I know I wasn't much to brag about before. But I have tried to be better for the family. I tried so hard."

Brushing at his brother's hair, John smiled at Alan. "Hey Sprout – don't think like that. We always loved you. Yes, we are proud of how hard you are trying. But never doubt how much we love you."

"No," Alan said sadly. "You just didn't need me."

"Of course we did," John argued. "We just wanted you to be safe and to experience a normal high school life. You know – studies, friends, athletics."

"Yeah, athletics. Johnny, am I…Well, will I -"

Alan's voice trailed off, having become more ragged. John and Gordon assumed it was from him becoming upset.

Gordon sat down on the bed and took Alan's hand. "Paul said you were worried about your legs. I'm gonna be honest with you. The doctors just don't know yet. There is a lot of swelling. They can't see any fractures, but hairline fractures just aren't as visible with swelling. So between the swelling and the medication, well, you could get feeling back in your legs soon."

"Or I could be stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of my life," Alan gasped sadly.

"Al," Gordon began only to become concerned as Alan started having more trouble breathing. Flashes of when Alan ate the walnuts a few months earlier poured into his mind.

Struggling to breath, Alan looked at his older brothers, desperation and fear clearly on his face. He barely felt anything as John climbed next to him on the bed, pulling him upright and resting his torso against John's chest. Alan never saw Gordon press desperately at the nurse clock button before running to the door. Somewhere at the edge of his mind he heard his next oldest brother call from the door for help. The last thing he heard before the darkness claimed him was a page overhead –

_Code blue, ACCU, room seven. Code blue, ACCU, room seven. Dr. Pierce to ACCU, STAT. Dr. Pierce, to ACCU, STAT._

* * *

_**A/N - CC is officially in hiding.**_


	22. Look Who's Here

**Left By the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - See chapter One**_

_**Author was placed in the WPP - Writers Protection Program. This is two-fold. One, to protect her from people who issued threats after the last cliffie. And two, to stop her from tracking down and strangling the twit who PM'd her to say that her recycling of her own OCs in the Tracy stories (like Kate, Emily, etc.) was laziness and that Criminally Charmed should be ashamed of herself. Well, she isn't. OCs are often taken deeply from within the author's own identity. Kate is like me in that she is fiercely protective of her family. Emily is the caregiver. Sarah the woman who overcame doubts of self-worth buried in childhood. Julie is the person who loves completely once she is willing to give the trust needed. MOST readers like my OCs. And yes, they are intregal parts of my stories. Because they are MY stories. If they were only canon characters, you could just as easily watch the movie or the series and, well while some of those stories work (see some of Little Miss Bump's stories, especially Smothered by Your Brothers), it wouldn't for mine. Many of my stories need other people and so - there you are. And I prefer to have fleshed out OCs. I hope that it is what makes my stories enjoyable to some. It is what makes them fun to write. **_

**_There is my rant. Thanks for listening_**

**_Oh - and if you haven't had a chance, Usher has a great story called Cats and Angels. Check it out. She likes to whump Alan too!_**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two – Look Who's Here**

Shana Pierce ran past the elevators and hit the stairs at a run, the Tracys trailing behind her. As they approached the fourth floor and ACCU, Virgil gasped to his father, "Do either of you notice that a woman who gave birth to twins less than four months ago is outpacing us and isn't out of breath?"

Jeff gave a quick nod, making a mental note to step up the physical fitness of his sons – and himself. He had always thought of the Tracys as being in peak physical condition, but seriously!

Scott ignored his middle brother's light-hearted comment, in no mood to find anything funny about the situation. _I knew we shouldn't have left Alan. I just knew it!_

Bursting into the room, Shana took note of the staff trying to force Gordon and John Tracy back from the bed. Feeling, more than seeing, the balance of the family entering the room, the doctor called out, "Anyone not employed by this medical facility gets out of here now!"

Within moments all five of the Tracys found themselves outside of Alan's room, with Stan blocking their re-entrance. When Jeff tried to go around him, Stan took him firmly by the shoulders.

"Mr. Tracy, if you go in there, you'll just be in the way. It will cause more harm than good." Seeing Jeff about to argue, the orderly cut him off. "No, Mr. Tracy – I know he is your son and you love him. But let Dr. Pierce take care of him. She knows what she is doing."

"If she knows what she is doing, why is my little brother -" Scott drifted off, slamming his fist into a wall before sliding down to the floor to land in a crumpled mass.

"We don't even know what is wrong with Alan," Scott cried out as he buried his face in his knees.

Virgil bent down and pulled his brother up. Holding onto the older man, Virgil looked at John and Gordon. "You were with him, right? Do you know what happened?"

John sighed. "Let's go sit down. We'll tell you what we know."

* * *

Back in Alan's room, the medical team was working frantically to revive the teenager. Shana was at a loss at to what could have caused the sudden decline in Alan's condition until she noticed the rash on his chest, as well as the hives on his hands.

"Damn it," the doctor cussed. Looking at Allison, she asked the nurse, "Has there been any medication changes?"

Allison shook her head. "There shouldn't have been. Alan's lab work came back about fifteen minutes ago, showing an elevated white blood cell count. It wasn't life-threatening, or even very serious, at the moment, so I forwarded the labs to you and noted that you would assign an antibiotic later."

"Laurel," Shana called out. "Check the patient chart. Did anyone give him anything?"

The younger nurse looked at Alan's chart, paling as she read the notes. "Dr. Krutz gave the patient 10 cc's of penicillin ten minutes ago."

"What the hell?" Shana gasped. "Damn it, can't that woman read medication alerts? Alan is allergic to penicillin. He was supposed to get Zithromax." Looking at Allison, "Push the epinephrine into him and let's get him stable before I get any heads on a pike."

Luckily, epi-pens were kept in the crash carts and one had been wheeled into Alan's room as soon as his respiratory distress had been noted. The change was immediately visible in the teenager and the room seemed to breathe easier right along with him.

"OK," Shana sighed. "Put the oxygen mask back on, get the allergist on call and Dr. Corrigan back up here to check him over. Take another set of labs in twenty minutes, if he continues to stabilize, we'll have the proper antibiotic administered in about an hour."

"Anything else, Dr. Pierce?" Laurel Wood asked as she noted Dr. Pierce's instructions on the chart and handed it to Shana to sign the orders.

"Yeah, anyone want to go tell the Tracys that a member of this hospital's staff almost killed Alan through negligence?" Shana grinned when everyone present took a visible step back. Shaking her head, she turned to Alan. "Any words of wisdom in dealing with them? No? OK, wish me luck."

"Good luck."

Hearing the comment echoed by the remaining medical personnel in the room, Shana cast a dirty look over her shoulder as she grasped the door and pulled it open. Before leaving the room, the young doctor rapidly sent a text to Dr. Axtell, who was also Chief of Medicine and Ms. Delgado. Someone's head was going to roll; Shana would make sure of that. And Ginny Krutz would be considering herself lucky if she was only fired.

Not once the Tracys knew what happened.

* * *

John encouraged the other Tracys to sit but only Gordon joined him in sitting down in the small waiting area. Finally John folded his arms and glared.

"I am not saying one thing until you all sit," the blonde said stiffly.

Finally, Jeff and Virgil sat. When Scott continued to stand, John raised an eyebrow and stared his only older brother down. Virgil sighed and grabbed the belt loop of Scott's pants and pulled him down until he was seated between Virgil and Gordon.

A small smile graced John's lips for a moment before he became serious once more. "OK, first off, you need to know – Al can't feel his legs."

"Damn it," Virgil muttered, completely ignoring the look of disapproval.

Jeff sighed. "John, we knew that was a possibility. There is also an excellent chance that it is temporary. Alan had barely regained consciousness and was hardly awake long enough for a serious conversation on his medical condition. Once he was awake more we could have – and would have – explained everything."

"Dad," Gordon said. "He's not mad we didn't tell him. I think he thought we didn't knew."

"And worse," John said sadly, "he thinks if he doesn't – well, he thinks he'll be useless to us."

"Did you assure him that wasn't so?" Virgil asked.

John huffed in frustration. "What? You guys think just because I haven't been around as much the last few years, I don't know how to talk to Alan. Based on things he has told me, I probably can talk with him better than the rest of you." Leaning back and looking upwards, John missed the startled looks on his family's faces.

Sitting back upright, John continued. "Anyhow, so when we were talking, Alan's breathing became a bit more ragged. But we thought it was just because he was becoming upset, so we tried to calm him."

Gordon leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees so that he could rest his chin in his hands. "It got worse. Um, he was – he was like it was back in February."

"An allergic reaction?" Jeff asked in surprise. "But, how?"

"Penicillin," Shana spoke up as she approached the group.

Scott jumped up, moving quickly towards the young doctor, a threatening look on his face. "We told you people that Alan was allergic to that! What the hell were you thinking? Well?"

Shana refused to give an inch but quickly realized that the Tracys were in shock and not dealing with Alan. Worried that someone would call security, she grabbed Scott by the arm, pinning it behind him. Using the position with her momentum, Shana forced Scott to sit back down. Glaring at Scott, she poked him in the chest as she spoke.

"I will try and tell you if you sit down and shush. I am not easily intimidated. You do not get where I am with a cute smile."

"How about great legs?"

All of the Tracys turned in surprise when the new voice joined in. Shana huffed and turned around. "Nate, what are you doing here? I need to talk with the family of my patient."

"Because," Detective Nathan Matthews grinned, "I'm here to talk to the family of my victim?" When Shana looked at him in surprise, he chuckled. "Not often I can take you by surprise. I was lead for the search for Alan Tracy and am wrapping things up. I always warned you, Shay, that our cases would run together eventually."

It finally seemed to hit Matthews that the family was away from Alan, not at all where he expected to find all of the Tracys. But before the detective could say anything, Virgil spoke up.

"You two know each other?" Virgil asked in surprise.

"They're married," Gordon said calmly.

* * *

William Axtell had gotten the text message from Shana and immediately went to pull the electronic medical record of Alan Tracy. He hadn't realized how tightly he was gripping the pen in his hand until it snapped in two.

Teresa Delgado walked in a moment later, luckily missing being splattered by a shot of ink hitting the wall. "I take it you got a message from Dr. Pierce?" she asked sarcastically.

Axtell shook his head. "I had always hoped that Shana was wrong in how much she disliked Dr. Krutz. I know the woman doesn't have the best bedside manner, but -"

Shaking her head, the administrator interrupted. "Bill, I never wanted to bring this to you. I know how protective you are of your people and how highly you regard the nurses in this hospital."

"Best care anywhere as Shana tends to say," Axtell quipped.

"Yes," Ms. Delgado agreed. "But plenty of nurses have been complaining about Dr. Krutz. Including Nurses Bailey and Fox. And those two don't complain about much. But I have reminded the staff that Dr. Krutz had no intention of staying with the hospital once her residency was done. Most agreed it was easier to grin and bear it."

"Teresa," Dr. Axtell broke in. "She had no business anywhere near one of Shana's patient. You know damn well, Shana often signs on as the hospitalist as well as having treated the patient in the ER and surgery. I'm a surgeon, but as an Emergency Medical Specialist she can stay with the patient from admission to discharge."

"You are also Chief of Medicine," Delgado reminded the man.

Sighing, he nodded. "It's one of the reasons I never did anything with Krutz's attitude. One of the only complaints I have heard from any of the doctors was from Shana. And everyone here knows…"

When he trailed off, Ms. Delgado spoke up. "That Shana is practically family to you and you are well aware that others may view you as giving her preferential treatment?"

Both shook their heads, a small smile on their faces. If anything, the opposite had been true. William Axtell had worked Dr. Pierce harder than anyone since he knew her true potential and wanted to see her achieve it.

"Well, this time Krutz has blown it big time. She treated one of Dr. Pierce's patients and administered a medication that the family already told us he was allergic to. And yes, it was noted on his chart. Luckily, it looks like they got to him in time, but still."

Shaking her head at Dr. Axtell's revelation, Delgado sighed. "Dr. Pierce didn't say what had happened. Only to find the COM and get up to ACCU due to an issue with Dr. Krutz." Pausing, her eyes went wide. "PLEASE, say it wasn't Alan Tracy."

"It was Alan Tracy."

"I thought I asked you not to say that," Ms. Delgado grumbled.

As the two began to head towards the elevators, Dr. Axtell asked, "If Shana didn't tell you what happened, what did she tell you?"

The administrator held out her blackberry so that the Chief of Medicine could read the message from his protégé as the elevator arrived and they entered.

_Get up to ACCU before you lose two doctors. I am likely to kill Dr. Klutz. And get COM. It may take both to hold me back._

"That's my girl," Dr. Axtell smiled as the elevator doors slid shut.

* * *

_**A/N - Ah, yes. Saved Alan. Happy.**_

**_Alan - Not particularly._**

**_CC - Alan! How you feeling?_**

**_Alan - Not much, I'm unconcious again, remember?_**

**_CC - But you lived! And Alan, I am giving your family a chance to work out some issues in a controlled environment._**

**_Alan - Yeah, your twisted imagination._**

**_CC - Yep._**

**_Virgil - Is it safe to come out?_**

**_Alan - Virgil, thank god. John is easily bribed..._**

**_CC - Hey, you ate the brownies I made, too!_**

**_Alan - And she keeps scaring Scott and Gordon._**

**_Virgil - You scared Big Brother and the Terrorist? Wow. I'm impressed._**

**_Alan - Oh, great - You admire her?_**

**_Virgil - Yeah, the way law enforcement admires a serial killer._**

**_CC - Hey!_**

**_Virgil - Any devious plot twists in mind?_**

**_CC - Well, not for you guys. Although I do have something planned for Scott and a sweet moment for you, Virgil. Alan - I have something great I have outlined, something you will like, I promise. _**

**_Virgil - OK. Al, seriously, she is trying to fix things._**

**_CC - I am. And if I work with this, I will not get to the story I have outlined..._**

**_Alan (pales) - Not the bank one?_**

**_CC -Yep. But it will be sometime before I can get to it. So rest while you can Alan. You'll need it._**

**_Virgil - So...Any of that popcorn around? (Alan frowns at his brother) What? At least CC is willing to fix us a bite to eat. _**

**_Alan (Sighs) - OK...It does smell good, ya know._**

**_CC (smiles) - Yep. So relax...And be glad I have less time to write. Keeps me from more mischief. Say thanks to the reviewers...It makes me fix everything._**

**_Alan and Virgil (together) - Thanks._**

**_Virgil - Pass the popcorn, will you Sprout?_**

**_Alan - Sure. (Whispers) - Think she would notice if we spiked her popcorn._**

**_CC - Alan, I am the writer. Of course I would notice. I would be the one doing it._**

**_Virgil - You ever consider conseling?_**

**_CC - Yep. But writing is cheaper and more enjoyable. So you may as well enjoy it. I know I will..._**


	23. Did You Blow Up Another Lab?

**Left By the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - see chapter one**_

**_I just wanted to say thank you for all the support I have received from readers not only for this story, but for the incident with the disgruntled reader from Heck. She no longer has an active account on fan fic so...Unless she finds another way in, I am considering the issue closed._**

**_Of course, if she read some of your comments, she may be hiding._**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Three - Did you blow up another lab?**

Scott had quickly reclaimed a chair next to Alan, gently placing the teen's hand, complete with IV stent, in his own hand, brushing the surface with gentle fingers. He was listening to the conversation his family was holding with Alan's doctor and the law enforcement officer but unless he had to, Scott planned for nothing else but sitting by his baby brother's side, protecting Alan from any and all threats.

Virgil, on the other hand, was listening closely to what Shana was telling their father.

"So there is a mild infection at the surgical site. Unfortunately, that isn't uncommon. If – well, I would have ordered Alan a dose of Zithromax, which now will have to wait. I have a call into Dr. Rose, the allergist on call, as well as Dr. Corrigan, who will recheck Alan's lungs to make sure the allergic reaction hasn't caused any further damage. On the whole, I am pleased with how quickly Alan is rebounding from this set back."

"Which shouldn't have happened in the first place," Gordon grumbled as he pulled a chair back up to Alan's bedside.

Detective Matthews, who had followed the group back into Alan's room, looked like he wanted to defend his wife, but was cut off by Shana.

"Trust me, Gordon, no one is more unhappy about this than me. I already have a call in to the hospital administrator and the Chief of Medicine. The person responsible for this will be held accountable." Pulling out her blackberry, the young doctor frowned when there were no messages.

Shaking her head, Shana continued. "There is no excuse for this, Mr. Tracy. But I -"

Allison stuck her head in the room, interrupting Shana. "Dr. Pierce, Dr. Axtell and Ms. Delgado are waiting for you in the family conference room."

"And – the _other _party," Shana grumbled.

"I paged Dr. Klutz – I mean, Dr. Krutz." Allison said. "She hasn't answered."

The look on Shana's face made every man in the room glad he wasn't the recipient of the young doctor's fury. "Send the page again, Allison. Add a code KA to it."

Nodding to Jeff, Shana softly said, "I'll be back soon, Mr. Tracy. Hopefully, Drs. Corrigan and Rose should be up here soon. Just get Allison if I am needed and I'll be back in a flash. And yes, Gordon, that is faster than soon."

Shana left the room, while Allison entered, doing a quick check of Alan's vitals. John looked over at her as he pulled a chair back towards the bed.

"So," he mused, "what is a code KA?"

Allison grinned. "Get over here or I'll kick your ass. Shana is the only one who uses it."

"Oh, good," Matthews muttered. "She does that to people here as well."

Virgil allowed himself a small smile. "So – you two are married. How – well, how did you two hook up?"

Matthews shrugged. "I got shot and Shana was the resident on duty. I fell in love when she slugged the drug dealer who tried to attack me in the treatment room."

Allison laughed. "Yep. Never try to hurt one of Shana's patients. She takes it real personal."

"Had the worst time convincing her to marry me," Matthews recalled.

Smiling, Allison put a hand on the detective's arm. "She loved you, Nate. Shana is just, well, she was afraid of losing another family."

"Instead," Matthews said, "I could have lost her and the boys before I even knew about the babies."

"How so?" Jeff asked, glad for the distraction, however mild.

"Did you know that she is also in the Air National Guard?" Matthews asked.

The men all nodded, while John wryly added, "We met Stan."

Nate and Allison looked at each other before they both began to chuckle. "One of a kind, isn't he?" Matthews said.

Trying to gather herself, Allison nodded and muttered, "Thank God. I don't think Dr. Axtell could take two Stans."

"Are you going to explain, or what?" Gordon asked.

"Did you see anything about the floods in Minnesota last year?" Allison asked.

The Tracys tried not to look at each other, seeing as the Thunderbirds, they had been there at that time. Well, the flooding had been over a week and they had been there for less than a day.

"It was the last day of the flooding when the dam in Crosslake burst. It shouldn't have been so bad but the area was overbuilt and there should have been additional restraints further up river but they were never approved." Matthews looked stressed as he recalled watching the potential tragedy unfold on the vid at the station.

"Shana had been helping stabilize patients for transport and, well, she's not the sort to leave until everyone else is gone," Allison added.

"When the dam broke, Shana was caught in the flood. If it hadn't been for the Thunderbirds, I don't think anyone could have got to her in time."

At that last comment from the detective, the Tracys did exchange brief glances. "So," John spoke up, "Shana was saved by International Rescue."

"Shana didn't know it, but she was about two weeks pregnant at the time," Matthews added.

"How long had you been married at that time?" Virgil asked.

To the Tracys surprise, the detective blushed. "Um, we got married about six weeks later."

Allison chuckled and patted Nate on the arm as she left on the room. "Hon, just be glad everyone was so happy Shana was alive no one wanted to strangle you for getting her preggers."

Once the nurse left, Matthews shrugged. "Actually, I was glad she worked with a medical unit. No guns around. Although I was assured there were a multitude of reasons for a colonoscopy."

"Well," Virgil mused, "that sounds a bit exciting."

Matthews grinned. "It would be cooler, if she would give me more details. Shana let it slip once that she briefly saw the commander's face when he took his helmet off. I guess they thought she was still out of it."

"Shana could identify the Thunderbirds?" Scott finally spoke up, appalled.

"Well, the one," Matthews said. "But she never would. Shana says that International Rescue gives so much and all they ask for is anonymity. I used to think she was being silly, but well…It can be hard to win an argument with Shana."

"Then that whole thing happened with the Hood. We were watching it on the news while taking care of the twins. Shana didn't say a word, just gave me that "I told you so" look and walked out of the room. I haven't said a word about it since."

Trying not to look concerned, Jeff looked at his sons. _I think I need to have a chat with Dr. Pierce – and soon._

* * *

Shana entered the small family conference room, shutting the door behind her. Well, some would say she slammed it shut. Shana preferred to think she closed it with extreme prejudice.

Looking over at her mentor and former guardian, the young doctor uncharacteristically snarled, "Did you tell her what Dr. Dumbass did now?"

The startled look on Theresa Delgado's face made it clear to Dr. Axtell that the administrator had never seen this side of Shana Pierce. But William Axtell knew that it was important to cut his protégé off at the pass, so to speak or she would want to knock Ginnie Krutz's head off.

Literally.

"Shay, calm down," he said soothingly before Shana cut him off.

"Calm down? Calm down!" she snapped. "That idiot isn't content to abuse staff, some of whom have been with this facility for decades; she wasn't happy that she constantly belittled me, trying to undermine me at any given opportunity. No – She has to treat a patient that has a physician on site, one who didn't require her care or assistance and then screw it up. Medication Alerts are in bright red at the top of the chart. If Klutz hadsimply entered a medication order into the chart, the system would have alerted her to the penicillin allergy."

Breathing deeply, Shana continued. "But does she do any of that? No – The Queen of Mean grabs a preloaded syringe from the medication cart – by the way, she didn't follow protocol to log it out properly, because if she has, she would have had to list who it was going to and again, the system would have popped up with Alan's allergy – and injected it herself. If she hadn't written it down on the room chart, we would have never known and Alan could have died. The chart wasn't even updated to the system properly because, again, we would have been alerted that the patient had been given the wrong meds!"

"This goes beyond my personal dislikes," Shana spat out. "This is blatant disregard for proper procedures and hospital policy that resulted in a near fatal medical mishap for a fifteen year old boy." Breathing deeply to calm herself, she spoke in a more reasonable tone.

"I'm calling for a peer review."

Axtell frowned. "Shana that could ruin her career if Dr. Krutz is found at fault."

Glaring, Shana grabbed the door to leave again. "Better that idiot's career than the life of an innocent patient."

* * *

Paul Han was just entering the radiology department when the "Code Blue" began to echo throughout the hospital. Recognizing Alan's room number, the eighteen year old paled.

Seeing how upset Paul had become, Linda patted his arm comfortingly. "Paul, I'm going to hand you off to the staff here and the orders are in place for your labs once you get back to your room. I'll go check on Alan and let you know what I can find out, OK?. Just stay calm and the radiologist will be able to do the MRI faster."

Nodding, Paul watched as the nurse hurried away. He barely even heard the radiology tech come over and introduce herself as she wheeled him back for the testing.

_Please, God – You have to be by Alan and his family. They deserve all the angels you can spare._

* * *

Jeff stepped out of his son's room, content to let the teen's brothers oversee him for the moment. Detective Matthews had followed him, making a note in his PDA.

"So," Matthews breathed out, "apparently Alan remembers little or nothing of the hit and run. We'll double check with him before the trial but at this time the only thing I can see Alan being called in for is if the judge allows – and Alan wants to – do a victim's statement. As Alan is a minor, it would also be up to you. Since Alan lived, they won't allow any of the remaining family to give statements."

"Nothing personal," Jeff grumbled, "but I am more than happy to not be required to make a statement. But will the boys have to testify on overhearing Barry Sheehan's confession? Or what about Paul Han talking to me in the kitchen?"

"In both cases, neutral parties – myself, Wharton's staff members and the like – heard the statement," Matthews explained. "The DA will want to go with us as we are less likely to be considered as having an agenda. No, I think the big thing for you to worry about is getting Alan home and back to health."

"With pleasure," Jeff sighed. "As long as we can prevent anyone from trying to hurt Alan anymore. I really don't think I could handle it."

Chuckling and shaking his head, Matthews was about to say something when the five foot, one inch fury that was his wife came barreling down the hallway. Grabbing her by the arms, the detective pulled her up against his chest and held down her arms.

""OK, Shay – I have to warn you, if you kill anyone, I will have to arrest you."

Slamming a one inch pump hard into the instep of her husband's foot, the petite physician snarled, "I won't kill anyone. Too hard to hide the bodies. However, I am not beyond doing grievous injury. And anything I break, I don't repair."

As the elevator doors slid open and a female doctor that Jeff didn't recognize stepped out, Shana snarled once more and pulled at her husband's iron hold. Deciding that this was not the time to interfere in this particular fight, Jeff came to the conclusion it was in his son's best interest to keep the teen's doctor out of jail.

"Dr. Pierce?" Jeff asked, moving to step in front of her, blocking her line of vision. "I'd like to talk to you for a moment. In private?" he added, eyeing Detective Matthews.

Seeing Shana relax and focus on her patient's father, Nathan eased his grasp on his wife. She turned and looked up at her husband with a wry smile. "It's OK, Nate. I won't kill her. But I don't care what Uncle Bill and Ms. Delgado say – I am still pushing for a peer review. My family helped found this hospital and a member of my family has been on staff since the day it first opened its doors. This was my home and the people here my only family for years. Klutzy is a threat to BMC and I'll fight tooth and nail to see her booted."

Nodding cautiously, Nathan pressed a small kiss on his wife's head. "OK, Shay – just remember…Anything happens to you, my mother would be helping me raise the boys."

"Thanks for the motivation," Shana grumbled before turning back to Jeff. "Mr. Tracy, would you join me for a cup of coffee in the staff room?"

Jeff and Shana walked down the hall, pausing as she opened a door marked "staff only". Looking down the hallway, the doctor smiled at her husband as he entered the elevator and blew her a kiss. Pretending to catch it in her hand, she stuffed the hand in her pocket, mouthing _"I'll save it for later", _making Jeff smile at the younger couple. Lucy, he thought, would have liked it.

A whiff of lilacs surrounded the pair as they entered the staff room, with Jeff swearing he heard his late wife whisper in his ear, _"What makes you think I don't, Rocket Man?"_

* * *

Barry listened half-heartedly as his lawyer tried to explain certain details to him.

"I've talked to the D.A.," Lorraine said calmly. "Even if I managed to get the confession tossed, which will be a stretch, the evidence against you is overwhelming. I think our best bet is to throw you on the mercy of the court. Given your age and the fact that you don't have any previous convictions against you may help get a lower sentence."

Lorraine had been appalled to discover that her client had been in trouble with the law but never actually charged, except for a minor charge of vandalism at age thirteen. Most of the other issues had been blamed on whoever happened to be with Barry at the time. "Otherwise, you may be looking at twenty years."

"Twenty years!" Barry screeched. "The little bastard lived! With his daddy's money, I'm sure he'll be fine. If anything's broke, the oh-so-great Jeff Tracy can buy him a new one."

Standing, Lorraine signaled the deputy at the door that she was leaving. "Just try and not say that to anyone, will you? I need to present you as sympathetic, not psychopathic."

"You bitch," Barry growled. "I want another lawyer."

"And I'd love to get you one," Lorraine snapped. "But no one else will touch this case." Pausing at the door she turned back to her client once more. "And I hate to tell you, but when scientists finally find the center of the universe, it won't be you."

The deputy entered the room when Lorraine opened the door to escort Barry back to his holding cell. Sighing deeply, the attorney grabbed her briefcase more firmly before heading towards the exit. _Everyone is supposed to have their day. I guess some just feel longer than others._

* * *

Closing the door behind them, Jeff watched as Shana moved over to the coffee maker. Pouring two cups, Shana handed the black coffee to Jeff before heading to a small fridge and pulling out a bottle of creamer. Adding a large dollop, she absently stirred it before returning the bottle to the fridge.

"What do you want to talk about, Mr. Tracy?" Shana asked as she pulled out a chair and sat at a small table.

Sitting down across from the doctor, Jeff took a large sip of the brew before saying anything. "Your husband – um, Detective Matthews – said you were rescued by the Thunderbirds."

"Yes."

Realizing Shana wasn't saying anything further Jeff felt the stretching silence tighten in his belly. "He also said you saw the face of the commander."

"He was saying a lot," Shana mused as she sipped at her coffee. Frowning, she sniffed delicately and stood up, pouring the coffee down a small sink. Rinsing out the mug, Shana then made a cup of tea before tossing out the coffee creamer.

"Well?" Jeff asked.

"Creamer was bad."

"Not the creamer!" Jeff snapped.

Shana chuckled. "Mr. Tracy, I really don't know why you're worried. If I haven't said anything in a year, why would I now? If it makes you feel better, we'll list your hobby as patient information and I wouldn't be able to say anything."

Finishing her cup of tea, Shana stood up. "I have to go dictate some reports, but I'll be back to check on Alan after Drs. Corrigan and Rose see him. Finish your coffee and head back to Alan. Oh, and try and get Gordon and John to eat real lunches, OK?"

Pausing at the door, Shana smiled at Jeff. "Can I say two things? Well, ask one and say the other?" When Jeff nodded, Shana continued. "Is the whole family involved?" When Jeff gave the affirmative, she smiled again. "Thought so."

"What's the other thing?" Jeff asked.

Walking back over to the Thunderbird Commander, Shana gave him a small kiss on the cheek before turning back to the door. Before opening it, she softly said, "Thank you for my sons' lives. I know you must hear it a lot, but I just wanted to say thanks."

Looking as the door close behind his son's doctor, Jeff didn't even realize a tear had run down his face until it fell on his hand. Picking up his coffee in a shaking hand, he took a large gulp as he gathered his thoughts. Yes, they had heard it before. But never had it meant so much. Jeff realized now that if he hadn't gone against logic and risked his own life to save that of the young woman swept up by the flood waters, that his own son may not have been saved. From what everyone said, it had been Shana who had fought the hardest for Alan, refusing to give up until she saved him.

_Lucy, you were right. The universe works in strange ways._

As Jeff prepared to leave the room himself, he once more smelled lilac and could swear he heard his wife's laughing voice.

_Rocket Man, I was usually right. Glad you finally admitted it._

* * *

Ginny Krutz entered the conference room she had been paged to. She was rather annoyed at having been repeatedly paged. Actually, it was the last one that had her filled with fury.

_How dare that little bitch Pierce have a nurse tell me she was going to kick my ass if I didn't get over here? I was coming. Well, after I finished my coffee. It couldn't be that important._

Seeing the Chief of Medicine and the Chief Administrator of Baystate Medical Center waiting for her made Dr. Krutz realize that there may be a problem after all.

* * *

_**A/N - How was that a twist with Shana? She knew Jeff was the IR commander all along. Karma is amazing, isn't it?**_

**_Wanted to update today so I could wish everyone a Happy Easter, but between church, family and work, I just finished setting this up. But it is still Easter here, so - HAPPY EASTER! _**


	24. Hello Boys

**Left By the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - See Chapter One**_

**_OK, to quote a reviewer -SQUEE!!! You like! I am gonna be hard pressed to top this one. But I have to say, I am definately encouraged and energized to keep writing. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!_**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Four – Hello, Boys**

Within a few minutes of her arrival, Ginny Krutz stormed out of the conference room before Dr. Axtell could stop her.

_That little bitch! I have two weeks left of my residency before I can join a private practice. Two damn weeks! And not only does Perfect Pierce demand a peer review, but Axtell and Delgado have the nerve to tell me that I won't be given privileges here. They know damn well that if I don't have privileges at BMC, that job offer I have with Springfield Family Medicine will dry up._

Making her way around the corner, Ginny leaned against a wall and breathed deeply. Dr. Axtell's words flashed back to her.

"_Dr. Krutz, I have to advise you that Dr. Pierce is calling for a peer review."_

"_What the hell is her excuse?" Ginny cried out in fury._

_Ms. Delgado hadn't risen but looked coldly at the resident. "Do you acknowledge that today you treated a patient of Dr. Pierce's without authorization?"_

"_If you are talking about the Tracy kid, no, I didn't ask for the princess's permission," Ginny said. "But I was rounding in pediatrics and covering for ACCU. I didn't need her permission to examine the patient."_

"_No," Dr. Axtell acknowledged. "But you disregarded protocol, a nurse's advice and instructions Dr. Pierce had left on that patient. Even if we do not consider the last two, you failed at multiple times to follow medication protocol."_

"_The kid needed antibiotics and I gave him a dose. It was marked in his chart."_

"_Yes," Ms. Delgado agreed. "But first you took the medication without entering it in the drug cabinet computer. Second, you didn't enter the order in the patient's file. Finally, you failed to properly update the electronic medical records from the patient's room."_

"_OK, I made a clerical error," Ginny agreed. "But why should that call for a peer review? That could ruin my career."_

"_Because if you had done any of those," Dr. Axtell explained, "then a medication alert would have occurred. Alan Tracy is allergic to penicillin and you could have killed him when you injected it into his IV. If you had read Dr. Pierce's notes you would have seen she planned on prescribing Zithromax."_

_Axtell sighed. "And I'm afraid that if the peer review goes against you, we will have to decline you having privileges at BMC."_

"_But, but if I don't have privileges here the job I have lined up won't happen. Springfield Family Medicine requires all of it's providers to have privileges here!" Ginny cried. Looking at Dr. Axtell's stony face, she wondered how things could get worse. She soon found out. _

"_And if the Tracy Family sues over this, trust me – I know who will be offered up as sacrifice," Theresa Delgado smiled coldly._

_Pale and shaking with anger, Ginny Krutz looked at the pair in dismay before fleeing the room._

Pushing herself away from the wall, Ginny snarled as she saw the person passing her on the way to the elevators.

"You little bitch!" Ginny growled out, grabbing Shana by the arm and pushing her into the wall. "It's not enough that everyone else bows and scrapes to you. You have to ruin my career."

Shana couldn't believe it. The stupid twit had endangered a patient and was actually blaming Shana. A huge part of her wanted to belt Ginny Krutz. But if Shana were to strike Klutzy, it would be harder to have the peer review taken seriously. As it had been her patient that had been endangered, it was her responsibility to deal with this.

Out of the corner of her eye, Shana could see Allison on the phone. At a gesture from Allison, she knew the nurse was calling security. Now if she could just prevent the other doctor from starting a brawl.

"Dr. Krutz," Shana said coolly, "it's bad enough you endangered Alan and thus your own career. Now you want criminal charges? Because I will press charges if you even think about taking a swing. You are lucky Alan will be alright, as I am sure Jeff Tracy would have no problem seeing you charged with negligence if he hadn't been."

Before Ginny could say anything, a crisp, aristocratic voice broke in.

"She endangered Alan Tracy?"

Both of the doctors turned to see an elegant blonde woman, dressed from head to toe in pink.

"I believe," the woman said, "I asked a question."

John had walked into the hallway and came upon the scene. "That's the doctor who left Alan's room just before he had the attack. Is she the idiot who gave Alan penicillin?"

Allison cheerfully chimed in. "Yes, Dr. Klutz is the idiot." When Ginny glared at her, the nurse just smiled. "Just want credit to go in the right direction."

"That's right," Ginny spat. "All you trust fund babies just line up against me. So what? I made a mistake. He'll be fine. After all, anything he needs, Daddy can buy. He's just like the princess; they get what they want, when they want it. Spoiled brats, both of them."

"Excuse me," the elegant blonde interjected. "May I introduce myself? Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, at your service. Do I understand that you feel that Alan Tracy is less deserving of care simply because if his father's wealth?"

"Little shits like him should just be dropped off something and improve the gene pool -"

Ginny Krutz never saw the punch coming.

* * *

_**A Few Minutes Earlier**_

Scott had moved into the comfortable recliner, making it clear that he had no intention of leaving Alan any time soon. Looking over at John and Gordon, he began to question them.

"Why didn't you say anything when Alan was given the wrong medicine? You were here, weren't you?"

Gordon looked over at John before answering. "We had stepped out of the room for a minute."

"What?" Scott asked. "You were supposed to stay here. You should have been looking out for Alan."

"Scott," John said calmly. "Alan was fine. A friend of his from school is a patient here and he came up to visit Alan. When you were his age would you want your brothers listening in on your conversations?"

Glancing up from Alan's chart, Virgil had a question of his own. "Um, is that the same _friend _that Dad mentioned earlier? The one with the, the – head injury?"

John nodded. "That would be the one."

"Did Alan – was Al OK with the conversation?"

"He seemed to be," John concurred. "And just so you know, Alan agrees with Dad and Gordy."

"No one was supposed to be in here without an all-clear," Scott grumbled.

"Alan's a big boy, Scotty," Gordon responded. "He wanted to talk with a schoolmate. We didn't see a problem with that."

"We can't keep Alan wrapped in cotton and placed on a shelf," Virgil said reasonably.

"Wanna bet?" Scott muttered as he brushed a hand over Alan's forehead, double checking for any sign of fever.

All three middle Tracy brothers rolled their eyes and sighed, silently consigning super over-protective big siblings to the back of a dark closet – preferably with gag firmly in place.

At that point Jeff returned to the room. Looking at the exasperated looks on three of his sons, he swallowed a chuckle.

Glancing over to the doorway, John waited until the door was firmly shut before asking his father, "So?"

Jeff gave a small smile. "The creamer was bad." When Jeff didn't say anything more, John tossed up his hands.

"This place makes you nuts!" he exclaimed as he stood up.

Jeff shook his head. "John, Scott isn't the only Tracy who gets cranky when he doesn't eat properly. I know you and Gordon haven't eaten since breakfast and that wasn't much. How about I walk the two of you down to the café, and we'll leave Scott and Virgil to watch over Alan?"

John looked to argue but Jeff went on. "Virgil should be here when the other two doctors examine Alan."

"And Scott?" Gordon asked. Seeing the rest of his family's look, he sighed. "Yeah – that so is not gonna happen, is it?"

Reaching for the door, John sighed again. "I'll wait by the elevators."

Gordon chuckled as the door closed behind his brother. "He'll feel better when he gets some chocolate."

* * *

_**Back in the hallway…**_

Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward prided herself on being every inch a lady at all times. Even in the midst of hand to hand combat, she never lost her cool.

But at the doctor's words - _he should just be dropped off something_ – and suddenly she flashed back to the Bank of London. Penny and Jeff were both in the cage, trapped, unable to get to Alan, who was being attacked by the Hood. She could still hear the terror in Jeff's voice, the desperation screaming from every pour of his body at the sight of his youngest son dangling over the whirling teeth of the Mole, the Hood trying to force Alan to fall to his death. Even if Alan missed the sharp, rotating drill head, he would have plummeted twenty five feet to a cement floor. How could the fourteen year old boy survive that? And if his youngest son had died that day, Jeff would have been broken just as badly, only for him, it would have been his very soul that shattered.

Penny balled up a delicate hand and drew back, punching the offensive woman across the mouth. As Ginny Krutz fell to the floor, the aristocrat looked at her hand in dismay.

"Now look what you made me do. John, I swear, every time I meet up with your family, I am due to visit my manicurist." Looking at Ginny in annoyance, Lady Penelope snapped, "Do you have any idea how much a good manicure costs?" As the doctor struggled to her feet – having refused John's and Shana's offered hands – Penny took a better look at the doctor's hands.

"Hmm. Obviously not," Penny sniffed in dismissal. Turning to the sound of the elevator opening, Penny gave a small smile.

"Ah, Parker, there you are. Thank you for bringing up the basket for Alan," Penny nodded at Parker before turning to John. "And which room is the dear boy in, John?"

Looking back over his shoulder, John gestured with his chin. "Room seven. Dad and Gordon are supposed to be coming out in a minute. Alan has had a set back, so he's out of it at the moment."

"Well, we can't stay long," Penny drawled smoothly. "I have a fundraiser that I must attend as I promised your father I would cover for him for in Manhattan this evening. And I simply must be back in London by tomorrow. But I wanted to dash up here and check on Alan."

"And the basket," Parker nodded, "definitely stays with young Master Alan."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate it," John forced out, trying not to snicker.

The two Brits headed towards Alan's door as Security arrived to "escort" Dr. Krutz to wait in the Chief's office. An assault on Shana had guaranteed that the resident would have to leave the premises immediately.

Once everyone else had left, Shana looked back at Alan's door and asked John a question.

"Does she realize that basket, the one she is giving to a teenage _boy_, is completely done up in pink?"

John grinned. "You should see her car."

Eyebrows raised, Shana shook her head and continued to the elevator. Those reports weren't going to write themselves.

* * *

Jeff stood from where he had kneeled next to Alan's bed. Bending down, he brushed some hair from Alan's face, wincing when the back of his hand brushed against the mask covering his son's lower face. Reasonably, Jeff knew it was temporary and that Alan should recover from his latest set back.

But Jeff wasn't feeling very reasonable at the moment.

"Scott, Virgil, we'll be down in the café. If the doctors have any questions or you feel I need to be back up here -" Jeff broke off when the door opened and Lady Penelope entered the room.

"Hello boys – Jeff," Penny flirted lightly, a small smile on her face. Walking over to the bed, Penny briefly fussed with Alan's bedding as her smile became tight before her lower lip trembled for a moment. Drawing in a deep breath, the aristocrat showed what Jeff was fond of calling her "silk and steel" – strength cloaked in elegance.

"Alan is doing well?" she asked Virgil softly, knowing the family medic was the best at telling her what the teen's status was.

"He was accidentally given an incorrect med, so Alan's had a bit of a setback, but he's doing unexpectedly well," Virgil explained. "The only real sticking point is that at this time, the doctors aren't sure how much damage was done to his back."

Lady P nodded before pressing her fingers to her lips and bestowing a light "finger kiss" to Alan's forehead. "Now, Alan – none of this nonsense. Parker said something about wanting to show you something."

Virgil turned to where Parker had slipped in behind Lady P. Having set the large basket on a counter across the room, the chauffer/sidekick was expressionless as the middle Tracy son grinned at him.

"So Parker – what's it gonna be? Safe cracking?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you are talking about, Master Virgil."

Jeff smiled, knowing that the servant was fiercely loyal to Lady P but that he also was very fond of Alan. While he found some of what the man had taught his son to be questionable, he also was sure the man would do nothing that could ever hurt Alan.

"We'll walk you down, Lady P," Gordon said cheerfully. "The doctor and smother hen need to be here for Alan's next couple of exams, but John and I need some real food. And Dad is probably itching for another cup of coffee."

Lady Penelope took Gordon's proffered arm and they walked out of the room to join John. Parker, however, had paused by Alan's bed before straightening an imaginary wrinkle in the blanket.

"Now there, Master Alan, you need to get better right quickly, understand me? You have responsibilities and there will be no lolly-gagging around, do you hear me?" Parker took in a shuddering breath and began to walk towards the door, Jeff following him closely.

Just as he put a hand on the door to pull it open, Parker stopped in his tracks when he heard Virgil ask, "Hey Parker – you do realize that get-well basket is all pink, right?"

Coolly, Parker turned with a brief nod. "Yes, Master Virgil. It has many details to it but I did not fail to miss the basket's over-all pinkness. Was there some other fact that I have disregarded at this time?"

Chuckling, Virgil began to recheck Alan's vitals. "No, Parker. I just wanted to make sure you knew that."

When Parker and Jeff had both left the room, Virgil slid back into his chair, laughing. Scott glared at his brother. Sighing, Virgil nudged his brother. "C'mon, Scotty. Can you just imagine the look on Alan's face when he sees a big pink basket, with a pink bow, pink flowers, even pink candy and sugar cookies?"

Shaking his head, Virgil fell silent, accepting that it would be a while before Scott found anything about this funny.

If he ever did.

* * *

Ginny Krutz had been escorted with the contents of her locker to the exit closest to the doctors' parking. The only residents allowed to park here were those in their final six months of rotation. She remembered how it had thrilled her to receive her temporary "physician's parking pass". To Ginny it had been the indicator of how close she was to achieving her goal.

Ms. Delgado had been firm when she handed down her sentence.

"_Dr. Krutz," she said coldly. "I am having you removed from the premises. You will not be allowed back. Even if the Peer Review does not go against you, you will never get privileges at Baystate. Not as long as I am Chief Administrator. No," Delgado said angrily. "There is no excuse. Shana Pierce is a respected and valued member of this facility. Regardless of what you seem to think, she has earned her place on the staff."_

_Sighing, the woman looked over at Ginny. "Do yourself a favor. The Peer Review can't be convened for three weeks. As a Senior Resident, you have two weeks vacation and five sick days you haven't used. Sign this form, and we'll consider the three weeks between then and now paid leave. You can use the time to find another position. Just tell Springfield Family Practice you changed your mind. You had top grades and good reviews. There's a chance you could land something up."_

"_Do you know how slim that chance is?" Ginny snapped._

"_Better than your chances here would be if Dr. Pierce succeeds at the Peer Review. However," Ms. Delgado said calmly, "if you make it clear you are leaving, we may be able to convince Shana to drop her charges."_

_Teresa Delgado knew that it was unlikely. Shana Pierce was passionate about her work and viewed doctors like Krutz as an abomination and a blot on the profession as a whole. Shana had been offered some amazing positions as she completed her residency. But the events of a year ago, when she had been saved by International Rescue, swayed Shana's decision to work with Dr. Axtell to make Baystate Medical one of the top Level One Trauma centers in the region. If Ginny Krutz tried to push the matter all the way to the board of directors, there was no doubt which doctor the board would side with._

_From the resigned look on her face, Ginny knew it as well. Snatching up a pen, she scribbled her name on the forms before marching out of the office, a security officer following her all the way._

Looking towards her car, Ginny sighed. Turning around, she caught the attention of the guard behind her. "I – I forgot to grab my keys from the security station."

Coldly, the guard motioned towards her. "You can head towards your car, Dr. Krutz. I'll run back and get your keys. Don't try to follow me back in. You can't get in this entrance without your badge or someone letting you in. And everyone knows you attacked Dr. Pierce."

"I barely touched her!" Ginny tried to defend herself.

The guard shook his head. "Lady, I was a cop for thirty years. I remember her parents. I worked events for her father. I came to work here after I retired and people like you tend to ignore anyone you don't feel worthy of your attention. Today may have been the first time you physically struck her, but you have been gunning for her since day one. Well, it ends here."

Ginny froze before slowly walking down the sidewalk. The guard could catch up with her at her car. As she made her way to her car, Ginny saw a reporter – Ana Nevada, if she remember correctly – talking to another young woman. The younger woman seemed oddly familiar. Oh, yes, now she remembered. Um – Shelly? Sheila? Sharon? Something like that. She was a Medical Assistant. Not someone who would usually draw Ginny's attention.

There were two Latino men – barely older than boys, really – leaning against her car. Seeing them, Ginny's anger at Ms. Delgado made her throw caution away.

"Listen, you two punks. Get away from my car. Security is about to come out and I doubt you want your sorry asses hauled off."

The slightly taller man, clad in what many in the Greater Springfield Area recognized as the gang colors of the Blades, a violent Latin gang, was called Enrique by his mother but most called him _Asesino_ – Assassin or Killer. Barely twenty three, he had seven known kills to his name – and five the cops had no idea about. Nothing had ever stuck, but anyone who knew him knew he wasn't someone to piss off. And with his little brother, Carlos, being hauled off to the stir as soon as he had been patched up, Asesino was in a shitty mood.

"Lady," he drawled. "You just offended my friend and me. You apologize, and we'll leave."

Sneering, Ginny glared at the gang member. "Like I would apologize to a couple of illiterate creeps."

"Illiterate?" Asesino's friend, Little Marco, not the brightest bulb in the group, blurted out. "Whadda ya mean illiterate? My mother and father were married at Santa Maria's Church."

Asenino nudged his friend to get him to shut up but Ginny never learned the wisdom of shutting her mouth – and had no one to nudge her.

"God, why do people like you even exist? The world would be better off is a few of you dropped off the face of the earth."

"You're right lady," Asesino drawled once more. "The world would be better off with some people dead."

Ginny heard the guard shouting her name as he ran towards her from the hospital. There was a high pitched scream from somewhere. The Latino man had pulled something from the area of his waist band. She saw a bright flash and heard a loud noise…

Then all went black.

* * *

_**A/N - There now, I told you all - Stupid people get taken care of in my stories. No worries -**_

**_Alan - No worries! Lady, you shot her!_**

**_CC -Alan, she almost killed you! Everyone wanted something bad to happen to her..._**

**_Alan - Yes. Fine. She was suspended, punched in the mouth and then basically fired. You don't consider that bad enough?_**

**_CC {thoughtful} Well, considered it. But the day I wrote this I was in a bad mood. Bad things can happen when I am in a bad mood._**

**_John {walking in} - You were in a bad mood so you shot her?_**

**_CC - Well, actually, a gang member shot Klutzy._**

**_Alan - Lady, she is your OC. He is your OC. As you are fond of saying, your OCs are an extension of yourself. _**

**_CC - Hey! Klutzy is not a part of me. She is a collection of a bunch of PIAs I have known in my life._**

**_John - Pia's?_**

**_CC - Pain in the Ass._**

**_Alan - Cool. Johnny, think Dad knows what that means?_**

**_John - Al, you are not getting away with swearing. Give it up._**

**_Alan - John, we are gettng off point. {turns to CC} Seriously? You shot her?_**

**_CC - Well, I thought about dropping her down an elevator shaft, but I didn't want the hospital held liable. Plus...Well, you will see next chapter._**

**_John {puts arm around his brother} It will be OK, Alan. CC puts her toys away when she is done. And in good condition..._**

**_Alan - Fine. {plops onto sofa} Man, how much longer am I out of it now. _**

**_CC - {sits next to him} Oh, a bit. I need to do some more, um, stuff. Then you can wake up. Things can get meshed out. Everyone will feel better._**

**_John - {sits on other side of Alan} 'Cept Klutzy._**

**_CC {holds out a fist, grinning as John bumps it} - You got that right. {Still grinning, looks at Alan} You ok, sport?_**

**_Alan {rolls his eyes} - Lunatics. Surrounded by freaking lunatics._**

**_CC - Aw, Al, chill. Popcorn? And John - got you some Moose Juice* in chocolate dipped glasses. Alan? You are sticking to diet soda. So relax while you can. I'll be writing more soon. {the brothers look nervous} Cheers, boys._**

**_*Moose Juice is vodka mixed with pineapple juice, served on the rocks or in sugar trimmed glasses (think margaritas)._**


	25. It Just Doesn't Make Sense

**Left by the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - see chapter one**_

**_Disclaimer, part 2 - I do not own the song "Anyways" by Martina McBride. Bring it up on you tube if you never heard it. It's beautiful and fits perfectly here._**

**_WOO-HOO! Over 450!!! I am soooooooo excited!!!!_**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Five – It Just Doesn't Make Sense**

Nathan Matthews rolled his neck, trying to release the kink in it. Sighing, he repeated the motion as a patrolman from Springfield caught the State Police Detective's attention.

"Long day?" The younger man asked.

"Long week," Matthews groaned. "You fill out any reports needed and CC them to me. I'll sign off – after all, this was you and your partner's bust, not mine."

"Well," the patrolman said, "we were glad you were there, Detective. Carlos Herrera isn't that much to deal with. But big brother is scary."

"Both the Herrera brothers are murderers now," Matthews grumbled. "The only difference is that Carlos was caught in the act."

Nodding, the Springfield officer opened his car door so that he could follow his partner to the medical division of the county lock-up when the sound of gunfire stopped him dead in his tracks. The two law enforcement officers exchanged quick glances before running towards the sound.

As they ran, Nate recalled an argument he was having with his brother-in-law, a local fireman. Most of the family was cops, so Andy was always getting teased.

"_I mean, really, Andy," Nate joked over Sunday dinner last week. "Fire fighters are nuts. You run into burning buildings when everyone else is running out."_

_Shana didn't look up from where she was feeding Jared, Jensen having already been fed and being burped by Heather, Andy's wife. As she wiped the baby's face and placed him on her shoulder, Shana raised an eyebrow and grumbled, "And a cop running towards gunfire instead of away from it is so much saner."_

_Most of the family chuckled – except Eleanor, Nate's mother. The woman frowned at her daughter-in-law and looked ready to take her to task for "insulting" police officers. But Big John, the Matthews' family patriarch and retired police captain, glared at his wife. The man usually was content to let his wife rule the roost, but after she insulted Shana at Easter, the young physician had picked up her sons and headed to the door, saying neither she nor her sons were coming back until "Mother Matthews" could show her some respect. Nathan had backed his wife and it had only been two weeks since his parents had shown up at their house, his mother's apology half-heartedly given and Shana barely accepting it. The Matthews were aware that any more insults directed at the younger woman would not be tolerated by the couple. Shana was a Matthews now – even if she still used Pierce professionally – and his mother would simply have to accept that fact._

"Shana's right," Matthews grumbled as he rounded the corner into the physicians' parking lot. "Cops are nuts."

* * *

Ana Nevada had frozen when the female doctor had walked out the door, half expecting her to say something as she looked over Sheila. Her camera was still in hand as she motioned to her cousin to go. "I'll get this to you later," the reporter muttered. "If that doctor reports you talking with me, the last thing you need is to have this on you."

As Sheila slipped back into the hospital, Ana held the camera close to her side and stepped closer to the parking lot, making sure the doctor was leaving without calling security on her. Watching as the doctor approached a car where two young Latino men were lazing, Ana's eyes widened in shock as she recognized one as infamous local gang leader, Asenino Herrera. Seeing the confrontation start, she raised her camera and zoomed in on the scene. The gang leader was news worthy, if only for how many times he had escaped justice.

Suddenly, Herrera whipped out a gun that had been shoved in the waistband of the back of his jeans and shot the female doctor in the chest. The woman crumpled to the ground as Herrera and his cohort fled the scene, grabbing a man from a car that had pulled up nearby and forcing him out.

"Random shooting and a carjacking," Ana crowed. "And I got it all on film."

Seeing a uniformed police officer and another man – one who ran like a cop, even in a suit – come around the corner, Ana shoved the small camera into her bag and headed back to where her news van was parked. Did she ever have a news story now!

* * *

John pushed his plate aside, half of his sandwich still uneaten. Jeff frowned as he set his coffee mug down.

"John, you should eat -"

Shaking his head, John chewed at his lip before answering. "I'm just not that hungry, Dad." Picking up his glass of ice tea, John took a sip before he continued. "I – I just don't get it?"

"Get what, Johnny?" Gordon asked before taking a bite of his tuna melt.

"Alan is a good person," John said softly. "So why do all these lousy things happen to him?"

Jeff had begun to raise his mug back up when John's words shot the proverbial arrow into his heart. Setting the cup back onto the table, he looked over at his second son, thinking carefully before he answered.

"I asked that question once," Jeff said sadly. "Only it wasn't Alan I was asking about. I asked it about me. I was a good husband and father. Most considered me a good person; I lived by the guidelines your grandparents had taught me – faith in God, the Golden rule in how you treat people and love your family. So why did Lucy have to die and leave me? I loved her so much. Suddenly, I found myself with five sons, Alan being only three. Your grandparents helped as much as they could, but with Dad becoming sicker – well, I think I would have crumbled if not for Jack."

"I look back now and realize, if Lucy had lived, we would probably still be happy, married and living in Kansas. But," Jeff looked around quickly, making sure they were the only people on the patio before continuing. "But at what cost to the world?"

"But at what cost to Alan, Dad?" Gordon asked. "He never had normal. And he wouldn't have been hurt if we had been back in Kansas."

"Really?" Jeff asked as he took a sip of coffee. "So there are no drunk drivers in Kansas? No doctors ever make mistakes at the hospitals in the Mid-West? Bad things happen all over. It's one of the reasons why – well, why we do what we do."

"Besides," Jeff sighed. "Alan never had normal even before your mother died. When he was born, a minor complication swirled out of control and Alan spent the first few days of life in the NICU."

"I remember," John said. "They let Grandma take us to a window where we could look at Alan but Scott was the only one old enough to go in the room." He smiled as he recalled watching Scott with the new baby. "Alan grabbed hold of Scott's finger -"

"More like Scott's heart," Jeff smiled back. "Scott said Alan looked up at him like he knew Scotty would give him the world if he asked, would slay any dragon for him in order to protect him." Sighing, he played with the coffee cup for a moment. "When Alan was eighteen months old, Scott certainly proved that."

John had frozen but Gordon looked puzzled. "What do you mean, Dad?"

Jeff raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh, yes, I forgot. You were at the Junior Swim Meet. Your first one."

"You and mom thought it would just scare Gordon," John murmured. "God knows it gave the rest of us enough nightmares."

"I remember when I came home that Scott's arm was in a sling," Gordon recalled. "Scott had gotten stitches. All Virgil said was that Scott had fallen."

"Scott's arm was sliced open by a knife," John said solemnly. When Gordon's eyes went wide, his brother continued.

"Some creeps tried to snatch Alan from our front yard. Mom had been gardening while we were in school and Alan was napping in his playpen. She ran back into the house for a minute…" John's voice trailed off as he recalled that afternoon.

Jeff picked up the story. "It was the chance the men were looking for. They ran up to grab Alan, but didn't count on Scott coming home early. He was in junior high while John and Virgil were still in elementary. Your grandparents had taken you to the swim meet as Dad hadn't become sick yet. There had been a water main break at the junior high so Scott was out early and he came home to finish his homework so he could meet his friends to play baseball."

"He made enough of a fuss to stop the men before they could take Alan," John continued. "But one of them sliced his arm."

"Your mother called me, practically hysterical," Jeff murmured. "I raced home while I sent Ann-Marie to pick up your brothers."

"Virgil almost fainted at the sight of blood on Scott's shirt," John recalled. "Then he started watching the paramedics treating his arm and he started asking questions. Seeing it was calming Virg down, the medics and even the doctor at the ER humored him by walking him through what they were doing."

"What were you doing, Johnny?" Gordon asked.

"Watching Dad freak," John muttered. At Jeff's offended look, John shrugged. "Dad, you were torn between comforting Mom and refusing to let Alan go. Gordy, he made the doctor examine Alan while he held him."

Giving a small smile, Jeff also shrugged. "Alan was fine. I guess I just thought if I could hold him, I could keep him safe." Sobering, he tightened his grip on his mug. "All I ever wanted was to keep him safe and I keep failing."

"Dad," Gordon said, "Alan doesn't blame you."

"And when he remembers our argument?" Jeff asked. "Will he still hold me blameless? Or will he hate me for being the reason he was out there, the reason why he may never walk again?"

John and Gordon looked at each other, before John spoke up. "Dad, Alan loves you. His biggest fear is you don't need him. Actually, he has that fear about the rest of the family as well. I've been trying to talk to him about it but he has a pretty thick wall that he's built around himself."

"Why would Alan have a wall built up?" Gordon asked as he finished off his sandwich.

Glaring slightly at his brother, John snapped, "Oh, I don't know, Gordy. Maybe because the three of you teased him unmercifully whenever he came home."

"Brothers always tease each other," Gordon said defensively.

Standing, John pushed aside his plate for good. "Brothers don't bully each other. And big brothers shouldn't be the reason little brothers have places to hide so no one can see them cry."

Gordon looked sick as John stalked off. Wiping at his face, the red-haired Tracy son turned to his father. "Dad? We weren't that bad, were we?"

Jeff bit his lip before answering. "I didn't say anything Gordon, but yes, you three could be that bad. I didn't realize until I overheard John and Alan talking in the infirmary during Spring Break. But when I looked back, I realized just how cruel the teasing had gotten. You knew what buttons to push and you did it every chance you got. Alan was becoming more and more alienated from the family and I was letting it happen. I guess I thought it would all work out. And – well, I had to work with the rest of you. Alan would head back to school. It seemed easier. But I'm the father; it was my responsibility to do what was right, not easy. I know now that so much of Alan's behavior before was that he was afraid not only of losing us -"

"But of not being needed by us," Gordon mused. At Jeff's surprised look, he explained. "Just before Alan had the allergy attack, he said he knew we loved him, but that he didn't think we needed him." Soberly, he looked at his father. "We have to change that Dad. Alan needs to know how much we need him."

Jeff nodded. "We will, Gordy. We will."

* * *

Looking over at Scott, Virgil finished speaking with the allergist, getting Dr. Rose's assurance that he would make sure to have a family member in on the conference that would be held after Dr. Corrigan rechecked Alan's respiratory system. Seeing the doctor to the door, Virgil took back his seat.

"Dr. Rose is concerned that Alan's sensitivity to penicillin is so much more acute than the last time."

"Alan was only a toddler when that happened," Scott grumbled.

"Which is why he was given such a light dose back then," Virgil agreed. "It probably saved his life."

Watching the way Scott clutched at their baby brother's hand like a lifeline, Virgil was concerned for both of his siblings. "Hey Scott – why don't you lean back and take a nap?"

"I'm not tired," Scott assured him.

With a "pull the other one" look on his face, Virgil shook his head. He doubted Scott had slept much in days. Before he could say anything, Alan began to move restlessly in his sleep. Picking up Alan's other hand, he spoke softly to the teen, hoping to calm him down so he would rest. When it didn't work very well, Virgil pulled a trick he had used when Alan was little.

He sang to him.

_You can spend your whole life building,  
Something from nothing  
One storm can come and blow it all away,  
Build it anyway  
You can chase a dream  
That seems so out of reach  
And you know it might not ever come your way  
Dream it anyway  
God is great, but sometimes life ain't good  
And when I pray;  
It doesn't always turn out like I think it should  
But I do it anyway,  
I do it anyway  
This world's gone crazy  
And it's hard to believe  
That tomorrow will be better than today.  
Believe it anyway  
You can love someone with all your heart,  
For all the right reasons,  
And in a moment they can choose to walk away  
Love 'em anyway  
God is great, but sometimes life ain't good  
And when I pray  
It doesn't always turn out like I think it should  
But I do it anyway,  
Yeah I do it anyway  
You can pour your soul out singing  
A song you believe in  
That tomorrow they'll forget you ever sang  
Sing it anyway,  
Yeah sing it anyway  
Yeah! Yeah!  
I sing, I dream, I love  
Anyway_

Virgil smiled. That song had always reminded him of Alan, his willingness to keep moving forward no matter what the world threw at him. And the singing seemed to have soothed Alan back to sleep.

Looking over at Scott, Virgil's words died on his lips. Scott was softly snoring in the sleeper recliner, Alan's hand still clutched in his own. Standing, Virgil spread a light blanket over his oldest brother and smiled as he walked over to shut the drapes and dim the lights.

"Rest easy boys – I have this watch," Virgil whispered as he reclaimed his seat.

* * *

_**A/N - Ding dong, the witch is dead, the evil witch, the mean ol' witch...Or is she?**_


	26. Still Think Science Can Explain Everythi

**Left by the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**_Disclaimer - See Chapter One_**

**_OMG - I think we will hit 500 soon! You guys are soooo awesome!_**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Six - Still Think Science Can Explain Everything?**

John walked outside to get a breath of fresh air. He couldn't believe he had said that to Gordon! The hurt look on his younger brother's face just about broke John's heart but he forced himself to remember the tears he had wiped away from Alan the times the teenager had confided in John just how much the teasing had torn away at him.

"_Johnny, when they say those things I get this dull weight in my stomach and I know if I eat anything it will come back up. I try to get as far away as I can. It's – God, John it makes me feel like they just don't want me there and so they are trying to make sure I know I don't belong."_

Knowing that the Hackenbackers were far more observant that just in scientific studies, John asked Brains and Fermat for their opinion. Father and son had looked at each other before laying out repeated incidents that they had observed. Alan would often leave the table, having eaten little or nothing. And it even followed the youngest Tracy to school, when he felt his family was "getting him out of the way". The Hackenbackers had observed Alan easily drop five or ten pounds without trying, especially with the way the teenager had a tendency to go for runs whenever he needed to relax or was upset in any way. John feared that the stress could easily cause an eating disorder or some other health problem in Alan if not properly addressed.

As much as John despised the Hood and what the criminal had done to his family, in some ways he was grateful the whole mess had occurred. There were times that John suspected that if it hadn't happened, they would have lost Alan.

One way or the other.

John's musing were disrupted by what he at first thought was a car backfiring. But as he observed several people running towards the parking lot, John's blood ran cold at the realization that it was in fact the sound of gunfire.

Passing a woman who suddenly ran away from the scene – as many would do – John saw another woman lying on the ground, blood seeping onto the pavement below her. His eyes widened as he realized one of the two men now leaning over the prone figure was Detective Matthews.

"Detective?" John practically squeaked out in surprise.

"John," the man nodded as he gently turned the woman over. Looking at the uniformed police officer with him, he nodded. "Go into the hospital. Tell them there is a medical emergency in the Physicians' Parking Lot. GSW, upper torso, and they'll need the trauma team."

As the cop ran back into the building John knelt beside the woman. Glancing briefly at her face, he was surprised to recognize the doctor who had nearly killed his brother with the wrong medication but he pushed off any feelings of resentment. Pulling a white coat from the box of belongings that had spilled onto the pavement, John bundled it up and began to apply pressure to the wound. Looking up to the surprised face of Detective Matthews he shrugged.

"What part of trained as field medics didn't you get?" John asked softly as he refocused on the task at hand.

"She could have killed your brother," Matthews reasoned.

"And she almost decked your wife," John responded.

"Really?" the detective asked. "And Klutzy lived long enough to make it to the parking lot?"

"Yeah," John grumbled as he pressed the material harder, starting to feel the blood seep through the cotton jacket. "But a friend of the family – mine, not yours – punched her for saying that - and I quote – _"you trust fund babies should be dropped off of something."_ Lady Penelope was not amused."

"That explains the spilt lip," Matthews correctly deduced.

Any further discussion was halted by the arrival of a stretcher and several members of the trauma team. John continued to press down as the group head back into the hospital.

* * *

Shana set down the telephone receiver, having dictated the last medical report for the hospital transcription service. Typing rapidly into her laptop, the young doctor quickly updated orders and reviewed other patient information. For the most part, Shana didn't have many active patients, as she wasn't a traditional hospitalist. At this time, Alan was the only in-patient she was following. Frankly, she suspected that the rest of the staff was more than happy to let Shana be the one handling the strong-willed Tracy family.

Smiling, Shana touched an accordion photo frame on her desk. On the one side was a picture taken on the Saturday before Easter, at the Easter Egg Hunt the hospital volunteers organized. Nate and Shana each held a son in their arms as the stood next to Stan in his giant bunny costume. The little outfits, complete with bunny ears, were adorable and the picture was perfect for when some girl thought to date her one of her sons.

_God, I'm as bad as Mother Matthews. _Nate was the youngest son and her mother-in-law tended to be rather, um, demanding of her children's spouses. Shana was not what the older woman considered an ideal daughter-in-law. _Too many differences, _Eleanor Matthews had proclaimed when the couple began to date. Not the same social circles – although Shana rarely socialized, being too busy at the hospital. Nate's family came through Ellis Island and Shana's off the Mayflower. And while most of Nate's siblings had degrees, Shana was a doctor. Eleanor Matthews may have been happy that Shana had saved her son's life; it didn't mean she wanted said son to marry the young physician. Shana becoming pregnant prior to the marriage – which Nate had been trying to talk her into for _months_ before they even found out about the baby – confirmed Eleanor's opinion that the younger woman had "tricked" her precious son into marrying Shana.

Looking at the other picture, Shana's smile turned a bit sad. Her parents stood slightly behind the pre-teen, their love for her and each other obvious in their very stance. Two weeks after the photo was taken, the elder Pierces were dead. She wondered at times what her parents would have thought of her marriage and children. While Shana had no doubt that they would have grown to love Nate – if only for how much he loved her – and that they would have been adoring grandparents, Shana would have loved seeing her mother go toe-to-toe with Mother Matthews. No one would have dissed Dr. Adams-Pierce's baby girl and got away with it.

Glancing at her watch, Shana realized at least one of Alan's consults should be completed and was about to log into his medical file to see if they both were, when her blackberry began to beep. Before she could respond to the text, Shana heard the overhead page and jumped up, heading towards the ER.

_Medical Emergency, physicians' parking lot. Medical Emergency, physicians' parking lot. Trauma team one to the emergency room, STAT. Dr. Axtell to the emergency room, STAT. Dr. Pierce to the emergency room, STAT._

* * *

Jeff set down his coffee mug before the words sunk in. Sighing, he took another sip of coffee. It wasn't Alan.

Frowning, Jeff set the now empty cup back down. OK, Alan was fine – at the moment, Scott and Virgil were in Alan's room and Gordon had gone to pediatrics to visit Allen. But where was John? Jeff decided to swing by the ER.

Just in case.

* * *

John kept the pressure on Ginny Krutz's wound as they raced into the ER, medical personnel shouting questions.

"OK, John, I have it," Linda calmly spoke as she took over for the exhausted man. Few people would realize how tiring trying to save someone's life was unless they did it for a living. Stepping back, he watched the trauma team work feverishly on the fallen woman.

"What do we have?" Shana said calmly as she entered the room, pulling on a gown and gloves as she went. She paused for a moment as she recognized the victim. Dr. Axtell came up behind her, also prepped to treat the patient.

"Can you handle this alright, Shana?" he asked, even as he checked Ginny's vitals.

The Trauma Team was momentarily startled, as Bill Axtell tended to keep his personal and professional lives very separated. But Shana didn't even seem to notice, already examining the chest wound as she moved the once white lab coat, tossing it aside.

"OK, we need a red line to an OR. What are her vitals?" Shana called out. Not liking what was read off to her, Shana frowned. "Give me a scalpel," she ordered before tearing open Ginny's blouse. Within minutes, Shana had cut open the wound further, prepared to manually massage the heart if need be, something to get the pulse back in the running.

"Dr. Pierce," a nurse called out, "OR three is ready for us."

Sighing, Shana pulled her hand out of the chest, snapping off her blood-soaked gloves. "Cancel the order." Looking up at Dr. Axtell, she softly said, "Probably something like a Black Talon. Her heart is ground up like meatloaf. She was dead before she hit the ground."

Spotting her husband standing next to John Tracy in the doorway, Shana groaned. "Let me guess? Wrong place, wrong time?"

"Aw, Macy -" Matthews froze when Shana glared at him. "Um, I mean, Shay. I had assisted two uniforms from SPD who had shot a gang member. Said gang member had just killed a drug dealer who was working without permission on their turf. The suspect is the younger brother of Asesino Herrera. And big brother showed up, trying to protect little brother. Got Asesino and a cohort out of the hospital so that Carlos Herrera could be taken to lock-up without incident."

"You're locking up a gun shot victim?" Shana asked with concern.

"Minor wound," Matthews assured her. "And already medically cleared, I promise. Anyhow – I was talking to one of the uniforms, when we heard a gunshot. That was when we saw Krutz on the ground and Herrera Sr. and another gang member carjack someone and take off."

"Where's the car jacking victim?" Axtell asked as he approached the threesome.

A security guard approached the group, answering for the detective. "He's fine. It was Dr. Doyle. He was smart and gave up his car without any fuss. He's talking to the cop who was here."

Matthews nodded. "I'll go back out now. Warn your doctors – their parking lot is now a crime site and some may not be able to get their vehicles for a while, and others may be asked to move for police vehicles."

"I'll take care of it," Axtell assured him. "And we'll make sure the autopsy is sent over as soon as it's complete." The doctor walked out to take care of the details, knowing that as Chief of Medicine he could get it done faster.

"I swear to God," Shana grumbled. "Klutzy would die on my watch and make me more paperwork."

"Dr. Pierce," John said softly. "I don't think she wanted to die, do you?"

Shana shook her head as she pulled off her blood-splattered gown. Walking over to a sink, she washed her hands before reaching for her coat. Pulling the white jacket back on, the young doctor looked back at Ginny Krutz's body as it was being prepped for removal to the morgue. "She drove me crazy," Shana grumbled. "And I wanted her out of the hospital. But I didn't want her dead. The only mercy is that she didn't suffer."

"Does that make you feel any better?" a new voice asked. They turned to see Jeff Tracy standing behind his son. When Jeff looked pointedly as John's hands, the second Tracy son took the hint and went to the sink Shana had used to wash the blood off his hands.

Looking back once more to her former nemesis, Shana shook her head. "No," she said calmly, before going through a door with "extreme prejudice". She really did prefer thinking of it like that.

* * *

Gordon had relieved Heather Ballard, allowing the young woman a chance to grab a bite to eat.

"So, Allen," Gordon mused as he helped the little boy build a house of cards. "Where's Trevor?"

"Trebor had to do something to help get Daddy back," Allen said sadly. "Gordons? Did my daddy do sumting bad?"

Not sure how much the little boy knew, Gordon answered carefully. "Why would you think your dad did anything bad?"

Allen shrugged. "Trebor is madder den usual wid Daddy. He's been mad at Daddy 'fore, but -"

"Not like this?" Gordon asked. When Allen just shrugged again, Gordon bent down to make sure he was on a level with the little boy.

"Allen, I'll be honest. I don't know that much about what is happening with your father. But Trevor is going to take care of you. That's what big brothers do."

Big blue eyes looked up at Gordon. "Den why aren't ya taking care of your brudder?"

Brushing Allen's hair, Gordon smiled. "Well, my baby brother has four big brothers. You just have one. So you get to borrow me while a couple of my brothers are taking care of our Alan."

Allen smiled. "Trebor says I was the bestest present he evers got. I was borned on Christmas and Trebor says I was the bestest thing ever. Hever liked her i-Pod betters. Was yours Alan a present?"

Gordon grinned. "Kinda. Mom called him a surprise. That's a present without a holiday to go with it. See, I was the baby for five years. Then Alan was born. I loved going into school and telling everyone I was a big brother. He was the best toy we'd ever been given." Poking the little boy lightly in the stomach until he giggled, Gordon became sad.

"But I haven't been a very good big brother for a while now. I love Alan and I know how much he loves us. But the problem with family is you know what hurts the most. And no one can hurt you like people who know and love you."

Sighing, Gordon rested his chin on his hands, looking up at Allen. "I even made Alan sick a few months ago. I didn't mean to really hurt him. Kinda like I meant to poke him and ended up giving him a bad boo-boo. Alan could have died."

"Didja say sorry?" Allen asked. "Mommy always said –say sorry and mean it. Was yous sorry you hurts your brudder?"

Nodding, Gordon gave a small smile. "Sorrier than you could imagine. Then Alan got hurt again – twice. And even after all that, I still haven't said it."

"Then you need to do that, don't you?"

Gordon turned slightly to see Trevor Ballard standing in the doorway. Standing, Gordon winced a bit as his back gave a slight twinge. "Yeah," he agreed. "Guess I do. See ya later, Alli-gator."

Allen's childish giggles warmed Gordon's heart, while Trevor's brief smile and nod of thanks assured him that the Marine believed he could – and would – make things right with his own brother.

Gordon walked down the hall, approaching ACCU with his heart a bit lighter, hopeful that he could make things right with his baby brother. But just as he entered the hallway to Alan's room, a sudden shout of "No!" caused Gordon's heart to freeze before he began to race towards the room, terrified that something had once more happened to Alan.

_Please, please, please…Just let Alan be alright. I – we – have so much we need to make up to the kid. We just need a chance._

* * *

_**A/N - OK, there you go. Klutzy is definately dead. Brought Allen back in, isn't he too cute? Can't think of anything else...**_

**_Alan - Nothing else? Lady, who is screaming? What the heck is the matter? How can you leave it like that?_**

**_CC - Alan, why do you think they call them cliffies? And if the title weren't taken, my pen name would definately be Queen of Cliffies._**

**_Scott - Yeah, but is Queen of Psychopaths taken?_**

**_CC - (muses) - Huh, not sure. But QP doesn't abreviate the same way as CC. So no thanks._**

**_Alan (sighs) - Well, Scott - I don't think she can do anything more to me. Right CC? _**

**_Silence makes both Tracys nervous as they turn to CC._**

**_Scott - CC? Well?_**

**_CC - the author is taking the 5th. But if it makes you feel any better, I plan on traumatizing Scott before I take aim at Alan again._**

**_Scott - no, it doesn't make us feel any better, does it Alan? Alan?_**

**_Alan - Sorry, Scott - but I could use a bit of a break. And since you aren't one of the two characters listed at the top of the story, I don't think CC will do anything serious to you. Well, at least not phyically. Would you CC?_**

**_CC - Nope. But (glances at Scott) - wanna hear what I am gonna do to him? (Alan nods and leans closer as CC whispers in his ears. He looks torn between laughter and shock)_**

**_Alan - CC! How could you? That is sick! It's twisted! (Starts to laugh) It's freakin' funny!!!!_**

**_CC- Yeah, well, Scott's attitude has pissed off Sam1 and it was the only way I could get her to put her pen down. Who knows what she would have done to him otherwise?_**

**_Scott - Alan! How could you take her side?_**

**_Alan (shrugs) - Hey, she makes it right in the end. John says to just enjoy the ride. Besides, CC makes snacks for the chat times._**

**_CC -(grins) - Yeah, made some red velvet cake. Yum!_**

**_Scott (starts to argue then takes a bite) MMM - Man, she can cook great!_**

**_CC - Yep. Alan? Cake and coffee. Hmm. Milk for you._**

**_Alan - CC, I'm not a kid._**

**_CC - Alan, you are, in this story, about a year and a half older than my daughter. And any comments on her, I can hurt you a lot worse._**

**_Alan - nope. Nothing to say. Eating cake and shutting up._**

**_CC - (Smiles) - Enjoy the ride boys - and the cake._**


	27. Not Girls

**Left by a Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - see chapter one**_

**_Oh, man! Do you see how close we are to 500! I am so psyched. Yes, I mean, psyched, not psycho. Sam1 - stop laughing my evil twin! Mom says it's my turn on the swings. Or maybe she said I am destined to swing? Not sure._**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Seven – Not Girls**

The elevator door had barely closed behind Jeff and his second son when the man turned to John and asked, "OK, want to tell me how you became involved in a fatal shooting?"

John shrugged, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. "Dumb luck, Dad. Just dumb luck."

He sighed slightly before opening his eyes and glancing towards his father. "Was Gordon alright after I left?"

Jeff worried his lip for a moment before responding. "Not really. That was a home truth your brother didn't want to hear. And I don't think I really saw it so clearly until recently. I mean, I had known what was going on, but I didn't want to admit that it had gotten that bad until – Well, after Spring Break. I failed Alan in that department."

"Dad," John said, "Alan was developing some pretty severe problems. A shrink would have had a blast with the kid. And most of it evolved from how his own family was treating him. No," he stressed, "we shouldn't baby Alan. The kid did have to develop a thicker skin. He was always rather sensitive. The constant teasing or belittling was bad enough. But then when that was done, he was cut out. More time was focused on "the family business" and less time on the family. I won't let Alan be hurt like that anymore."

Looking thoughtful, Jeff asked softly, "Do you ever feel cut off from us as well?"

Refusing to meet his father's eyes, John gave a quick nod. "Sometimes, Dad. Yeah, sometimes I do feel cut off from the family as well. I'm at "my lab" most of the month and I come back and it can be a bit of me versus the rest of the family. And Alan is gone most of the year, so I was apart from him as well. OK, it's not me for the others. But I can reconnect with Alan and I have been trying."

As the doors opened, the men got off but not before John turned back to his father. "Gordon feels badly for everything that has happened over the last few years. He at least is acknowledging he has a lot to make up for. Virgil? Not sure there. But Scott has to stop acting like he never hurt the kid. In some ways, it hurt Alan more for Scott to tease him like that."

"Because Scott helped raise him and was always his protector when Alan was younger," Jeff correctly surmised.

Nodding in agreement, John concluded, "It would be like a mother rejecting her child. Alan felt incredibly betrayed. And if Scott doesn't keep acting like he is the only one who loves Alan and is the only one trying to protect him, I don't know who will lose it with him faster – me or Alan."

Jeff murmured an agreement before the pair began to walk towards the room. Looking in the opposite end of the hallway, Jeff spotted Gordon walking towards Alan's room. Before he could acknowledge his fourth son, a cry of "No!" came from the youngest Tracy's hospital room. All three of the men began to run towards the room, silently praying the teenager was aright.

* * *

Shana reentered ACCU with a small scowl on her face. Well, Allison had often commented that no one could tick off Shana faster than Ginny Krutz. That was still holding true.

_Although, _Shana mused, _Mother Matthews does run a close second. _The rest of the sons and daughters in law had advised Shana to simply "give in" to the mother of their mutual spouses. But giving in was not something that came easily to Shana Pierce. Both of her parents had been strong willed – Uncle Bill always simply said stubborn – and she had inherited the nature of her mother and father.

Many would comment after the accident that had claimed the life of Senator Pierce and Doctor Adams-Pierce, that Shana had surviving was nothing short of a miracle. William Axtell would give out a small snort and assure whoever would listen, Heaven had less to do with the twelve-year-old's survival then the fact that the pre-teen had Heaven and Hell scared to take her on.

Allowing a small smile, Shana returned a wave by Dr. Rose. "Shana," the older man called out. "We were just about to page you."

"But," Dr. Corrigan piped up as he finished putting orders into the computer near the nurses' station, "we weren't sure how long the emergency for the Trauma Team would take."

"There, um," Shana sighed. "There was nothing we could do. Bullet, probably something like a Black Talon, straight to the heart. It was shredded."

"Sorry," Dr. Rose said softly, knowing how passionate Shana tended to be. The young doctor took every death on her watch as a personal affront. Having known Shana and late Dr. Adams-Pierce, he placed a hand on her shoulder.

'You know," he mused, "as an allergist - well, I don't lose patients like you can, at least not to much I can do about it. But it happens. The first time it did, a very wise doctor told me she learned two things her first day as an intern. One – you can't save every patient. And two, always remember rule one."

Recognizing the words, Shana smiled. "Yeah, Mom was pretty smart, wasn't she?"

"You didn't just inherit her eyes and height," Dr. Rose agreed.

"Not to change the subject," Dr. Corrigan broke in, "but do you want to go over Alan Tracy's results now?"

Shana nodded. "In a minute. I promised the Tracys that Virgil Tracy would sit in on the conference." Both men gave a brief sign of agreement, as the Tracy son in question had made it clear he would be included. Having spoken with Virgil while they were examining Alan, they had been impressed by the knowledge and common sense he had shown and would have no trouble including him in their follow-up.

Moving towards Alan's room, Shana started when it opened.

"Dr. Pierce," Virgil said. "I was going to check to see if you were still in the ER. I heard the page and wondered if the conference with the other doctors was going to be delayed."

"No," Shana softly responded. "There's nothing to keep me in the ER at the moment."

Virgil recognized the look on her face as one he had seen on his family's faces after a loss of life at a rescue site. He compassionately decided not to ask anything further.

"OK, Scott is with Alan – even if they are both asleep at the moment," Virgil stated.

"Well," Shana added. "Both John and your father should be on their way back up. I ran into them near the ER."

"And Gordo sent a text thirty minutes ago that he would be back over here in about a half hour. He's visiting a friend in pediatrics," Virgil explained.

Shana looked a bit puzzled, but decided it wasn't her business. The pair began to move towards the family conference room, taking note of John and Jeff just stepping off the elevator. Assured that everything was covered with Alan, Shana gestured towards Drs. Rose and Corrigan and opened the door of the room when a sudden shout from Alan's room caused her to whirl around. Seeing the panicked look on Virgil's face, Shana knew she wasn't imaging the source and raced back towards room seven.

Virgil heard Scott's terrified cry and felt as if he had gotten a punch to the gut before sprinting back to his baby brother's room.

_Alan! Damn it, I knew I shouldn't have left him._

* * *

All of the Tracys – and Shana – burst into room seven at the same time, briefly causing a traffic jam before Shana and Jeff led the way in. Both were brought up short by the scene in front of them.

Alan was fine. None of the monitors indicated any problems and he still slept soundly in the bed, not stirring in the slightest.

Scott was another story. A hospital blanket lay on the ground, almost as if it had been thrown to the side. There was a panicked look on the face of the eldest Tracy son, and a light sheen to his face from sweat. His eyes were wide and his breathing was frantic as if he had been in the midst of an epic battle.

Jeff moved quickly to his son's side. "Scott? What's wrong?"

Virgil had immediately jumped to the correct conclusion. "Bad dream, Scott?"

A short nod was the only answer Scott gave. John and Gordon looked at each other and shrugged.

"We'll get you some water," Gordon spoke up, wanting to give their oldest brother some space for a moment.

John was about to argue that it didn't take two of them to fetch some water when Gordon simply dragged the blonde out.

:C'mon," Gordon muttered. "He won't say anything in front of us."

"What do you think caused Scott to have a nightmare?" John whispered back.

Gordon gave his brother an incredulous look. "Like this whole mess won't give us all nightmares for years to come?"

John sighed – man, he had been doing that a lot lately – and nodded. Yeah, it would.

In the meanwhile, Scott still sat in the chair, staring straight forward. Virgil kneeled next to him, a comforting hand on his arm. "Scott? Speak to me."

"It was awful," Scott muttered. "I – well, I was dreaming I was – that I was…"

"What, Scott?" Virgil asked, his tone becoming insistent.

"Pregnant!" Scott finally blurted out.

Shana and Jeff looked at each other, wide-eyed, before bursting into laughter.

"P-pregnant?" Shana managed to spit out finally, while Jeff was leaning against the foot of Alan's bed, holding his side from the laughter that was stealing his speech.

"Swollen ankles, nausea, weight gain, weird cravings – the works," Scott responded, still shaken from the dream.

"Now, Scott," Jeff chuckled. "I know I said I wouldn't mind you making me a grandfather, but I think I wanted you to find the right woman and have her carry the baby. You really do need to learn to delegate to others."

When Scott began to glare at him, Jeff shook his head, trying to contain his amusement. Pulling up a chair, Jeff began to make himself comfortable as he began to watch Alan sleep. Smiling at his youngest, Jeff confided to the teen – even if the boy was asleep – in a stage whisper, "I think I need to keep a closer watch on Scott. The stress seems to be getting to him."

Virgil looked from his father to his brother before turning to Shana. "Um, Dr. Pierce – I'm ready for that meeting now. Dad, Scott – I'll get the full story from the doctors on Alan and report back."

Jeff and Scott nodded, signaling for the other two people in the room to leave. Shana spared one last look at Scott before the door closed behind her. Scott glared at the shut door when he heard the young doctor's chuckle drifting through from the hallway.

"Not funny," he muttered petulantly.

It was all Jeff could do not to laugh again but he figured that Scott was cranky enough. The door reopened and the other two Tracy sons reentered, handing Scott a glass of water before pulling chairs back towards Alan's bed and the vigil once more was being played out.

* * *

Barry looked up as the door to his cell was opened. Two Latino men, neither that much older than him, entered pushed in slightly by an officer the eighteen year old didn't recognize.

"Herrera, Delgado – meet your roomie for the next few hours. You'll all be headed for lock-up in time for dinner and then you'll get some quality time with the judge in the morning." Shaking his head, the cop just chuckled. "You guys have a lot in common. You got busted for being idiots."

Still chuckling, the officer walked back out, the door clanging behind him.

Asesino Herrera glared at Barry before turning to his fellow gang member, smacking Mario in the arm.

"You idiot!" he growled. "Why didn't you tell me you couldn't drive a stick? You practically blew up that car we 'jacked!"

"Sorry, man," Mario grumbled.

Returning his attention to Barry, the gang leader gestured with his chin. "Whatcha get busted for, kid?"

Barry bristled at being called a kid before shrugging. "I had a few drinks, hit a kid. It was an accident. But his daddy is one of the rich and famous so they are trying to nail me to the wall for it."

"How rich and famous?" Mario asked, genuinely curious.

"Jeff Tracy."

"Dude," Asesino chuckled. "You are so screwed and nobody even bought ya dinner first."

Barry looked away before responding. "Yeah, maybe. But what they get you for?"

Asesino shrugged. "They say some people are only alive because it's illegal to kill them. I think the laws of man sometimes gotta get pushed aside by the law of the jungle. Shot a bitch that needed to be put down. Then we borrowed a car to get out of the area."

"Without asking permission, I'd wager?" Barry asked.

Mario gave a high pitch giggle that caught Barry's attention, while making Asesino wince. "Sure we asked permission. Gun in your face asks real nice, ya know?"

Barry raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"No comment, kid?" Asesino drawled.

"Not much for me to say," Barry responded.

Asesino chuckled. "I like you kid. Stick close to me. I got people on the outside. Unless you got somewhere better to be than stuck in a ten by fifteen cell for the next twenty years."

Thinking of the classmates he despised and the family that had turned on him, Barry shrugged. No, the handle he thought he had on life had definitely broke off. Raising an eyebrow again, Barry asked, "How do you know I'm not a cop?"

Asesino shook his head. "Unlike my less than clever friend here, I make sure I keep up to date on the news. It helps in my endeavors. I recognized you from the vid. They even had a clip of you scoring the winning goal at a soccer game."

"Then why did you ask what I was accused of?" Barry growled.

"I needed to know you were being honest with me," Asesino drawled. "I've heard good things about you from some mutual friends. I can use a guy like you. I'm linked with other associates up and down the east coast. I'm gonna have to leave Massachusetts but I'm pretty sure I can set us up nicely in Miami."

Seeing Barry was torn, aware he was pushing the younger man the final step beyond the redemption of polite society, Asesino leaned forward.

"Chill man. You remind me a lot of my kid brother. The witnesses for him are gonna fade away, one way or the other and he'll do good once he learns some control. I see the same fuego in you."

Barry, recognizing the word as Spanish for fire, nodded. But he still wasn't sure. Asesino decided to push his advantage.

"Kid – you stay here, they're gonna fry ya. You may not live forever with me, but you will _live_. I mean, really live and do things and be remembered. In the end kid, you gotta remember not to take life too seriously. 'Cause none of us get out of it alive."

Seeing Barry's budding acceptance, Asesino leaned back, smugly secure. The kid would either make a great associate or a much needed patsy. It would all depend on what Asesino himself needed to get out of this in one piece.

* * *

Virgil returned to Alan's room, smiling at the sight of his family keeping watch of over the fifteen year old. Crossing the room, he stood at the foot of the bed.

Looking up, John asked calmly, "So? What did the docs agree on?"

Shrugging, Virgil responded, "Alan is allergic to penicillin." Seeing the annoyed looks on his family's face, he continued.

"Yes, we know that. But it really is a severe allergy and the kid may have to give in and wear a medi-alert bracelet. The good news is his lungs haven't been further compromised. The meds should keep him under until tomorrow. So – none of us slept good last night. How about we head back to the condo, make some dinner and head to bed early? We can come back in the morning and Alan should be awake for breakfast. He'll be up to a liquid breakfast tomorrow."

Gordon stood, agreeing with the plan and John slowly followed. Scott, however, firmly stayed in place. When his brothers all looked at him, Scott got stubborn.

"No. No way. Alan keeps getting hurt and I am not leaving him alone again."

"He won't be alone," Gordon argued. "Dad will be here."

"No!" Scott growled. "I'm gonna stay here, he needs me, I would never let him be hurt and -"

"Damn it, Scott!" John snapped. "We all love Alan. But you are not innocent in hurting Alan as you'd like to think. Gordon still feels lousy for how much he teased Alan. And I'd bet Virgil does as well."

Virgil nodded so John continued. "But tell me oh fearless leader – How does it feel to know that the one person Alan thought he could always count on to protect him was the one to hurt him the most. You never even noticed how it made him feel? How many meals did Alan actually eat with you? How much time did you spend with the kid? And how many times did Alan disappear after you helped tease him?"

Standing John glared at Scott. "How many times did Alan find a place to hide and let the tears fall from the snipes sent by the one person he thought would never hurt him. You aren't innocent in all this, Scott. I apologized to Alan after Spring Break when I realized how far he had drifted from us. I should have made more of an effort to connect with Alan. I should have never brushed it off as Alan being a typical teenager, full of hormones and angst. But in the end, I did make the effort."

Stomping over to the door, John had a hand on the door, turning before he spoke to his brother once more. "What will it take, Scott? How much does Alan have to be hurt before you admit you are one of the sources of his pain? Will you man up, big brother? Or will you keep pushing the blame onto everyone but yourself?"

Not looking back, John opened the door and walked out leaving his stunned family behind him.

"Wow," Gordon breathed out. "Never knew Blondie had it in him."

"He's right," Virgil agreed. Raising a hand to halt Scott's inevitable tirade, he looked straight at his oldest brother. "And if you think about it, Scott, you will know that he is. We all have to talk to Alan. Just think of all the times we could have lost Alan in the last six months. The walnuts, the Hood, the hit and run – and think about things that happened before those event and wonder how you would have felt if you had never been given a chance to make things right."

"We were all laughing at him before he said he was allergic to walnuts and collapsed," Gordon recalled. Looking Scott straight in the eyes, he emphasized, "All of us. Well, all three of us. Dad was frowning but you and Virgil were cracking up at the idea of me getting payback on Alan even when Dad had told us to drop it, that it didn't involve us. How would you have felt if Alan had died that day and the last image he had of you was you laughing at him?"

Gordon stood and moved towards the door. "Virg? I'm going. A quiet meal and early bed sounds good right now. You coming?"

Following his brother to the door, Virgil muttered, "Since it was my idea, why not?"

Scott sat still for a few minutes after the door shut behind his brothers. Finally, he raised his eyes and looked at Jeff.

"Dad? That isn't true, is it? I mean – Alan knows how much I love him, right?"

Jeff bit his lip before speaking. "Scott, Alan knows how much we all love him. The problem has been, he doesn't know how much we need him. And he doesn't think we like him. He's a remarkable kid. Yes, in your own ways, each of you is a remarkable person. And I know people have given that title to me as well. Alan needs to know – well, like I said – he needs to know that is a much needed, much wanted and very important part of this family. But until we can talk to him – and yes, that means apologize – you need to realize that none of us were blameless. Alan felt so badly about himself that one piece of stupidity on my part drove him to be out running at night. If he had been more assured of his place in the family, he wouldn't have been so sensitive about perceived rejection."

Scott stood up, looking down at his baby brother. In his mind's eye, he didn't see the fifteen year old. Instead, Scott saw the traumatized little boy who he had pulled from the avalanche that had claimed their mother. _I broke my promise, didn't I, Allie? I let you be hurt again and I was the one doing it._

"You weren't the only one, Scott," Jeff calmly spoke, making Scott realized he had spoken aloud. "Now, go to the condo, get something to eat and talk to your other brothers. Then tomorrow you can come back here and work on making things right with Alan."

Nodding, Scott laid a kiss on the top of Alan's head, knowing that the teen would never let him do that anymore. "We'll talk tomorrow, Allie. You just get some rest and I'll be back in the morning."

Once Scott had left the room, Jeff moved over to the recliner. Clasping Alan's hand in his own, Jeff smiled at his baby. "And people say you and John only look alike. Nope, you both got your mother's temper."

As Jeff drifted off – he really hadn't had much sleep in the last few days – he could have sworn he heard Lucy's voice.

_Um, Rocket Man – get a clue, will you? Your temper is as bad as mine ever was. Deal with it. _

* * *

_**A/N - Scott's dream was for Sam1. His attitude has been annoying her. But I put him through plenty this chapter. So - Sam1 - back away from the keyboard. Put down the pen. Scott is being dealt with. Besides, I know how you love John when he gets all hot and bothered.**_

_**More soon, have fun and I'll be back in a month or two...**_

_**Or maybe by Saturday. - CC**_


	28. What You Don't Know Can't Hurt You

**Left By the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - See Chapter One**_

**_One reviewer commented about my excitement over the number of reviews. Don't care, still excited. Not sure if I can top this one...The story, not the chapter. But considering returning to the writers protection program. Of which I am offering to Shadowfox8 with her new story "Always the Hero". As her beta, I can say...The kid is gonna need it._**

* * *

**Chapter 28 What You Don't Know Won't Hurt You**

Dawn had begun to rise over the Eastern Seaboard and in Alan Tracy's hospital room, the light emerged through the window, slowly brightening the room. Jeff, who was still sleeping soundly, was turned from the window, his head resting slightly to the side on a small hospital issued pillow, while a matching blanket covered his lower body.

But as the sunlight trickled into the room, it found Alan's face, encouraging the teen to awaken. A combination of his injuries and medication – not to mention the aftermath of his allergic reaction – had kept the fifteen year old asleep for more than twelve hours. Stretching slightly, Alan's face scrunched up as he resisted waking up. Finally surrendering to the inevitable, Alan's blue eyes fluttered open and he peered around the room.

Seeing his father sitting by his side, Alan gave a small smile. He remembered the morning after the Hood's attack, waking up to find his father sitting between the two beds in the infirmary, keeping watch on both John and Alan. Well, maybe that was what it started out as, but as Alan looked over at the amused face of his only other blonde brother, he grinned as they silently waited for Jeff to realize that they were awake. Seeing the empty coffee carafe sitting behind their father, Alan realized that even massive quantities of caffeine were insufficient against the exhaustion of the previous day.

Having someone watch over him as he slept was nothing new. There were times that Alan would wake, sensing someone nearby, and recognize Scott's scent. Alan wouldn't even open his eyes, accepting that his oldest brother was a hopeless Mother Hen. He wondered if his family knew he could tell them all by scent. Scott or Jeff would stand there for a while, just watching. John would come in and check on Alan, maybe even adjusting his blanket before leaving. Virgil, who could tell by the way Alan's breathing changed that he was awake, would whisper "go back asleep" and leave.

Gordon usually had something thrown at him because who could sleep when a person knew that would open you up to whatever mischief the red-headed Tracy had planned?

Thinking back on what had happened since he had awakened yesterday, Alan became thoughtful. Things were still confusing. He thought he could recall arguing with Jeff – or was it his father just yelling at him? How far back did that memory go? Alan couldn't remember anything his father should be upset with him about since the first day of Spring Break.

Looking around the room, a bit more awake, Alan was relieved to see it was only his father. Hopefully, that meant his brothers were at a hotel or something, getting some sleep. They could all be cranky when they didn't get enough sleep.

Alan was debating going back to sleep when his eyes were drawn to a counter across the room. Several plants, flowers and balloons were there – get well wishes, he assumed, from friends of either him or the family. He smiled at one balloon with a red race car on it, correctly guessing it was from Tin-Tin. Over the years he had often given her gifts with dolphins, knowing how much she loved the mammal, while her selection had often had either red race cars or rockets – a tribute to his fascination with Thunderbird Three. Or race cars. Anything that went real fast…

His musings on his friend/girlfriend came to an abrupt halt and his eyes went wide. Tilting his head slightly, Alan blinked repeatedly as he tried to make sure he was awake. Reaching down with his free hand, the other still being clutched by Jeff, Alan hit the nurse call button.

Alan only had to wait a minute before a nurse entered the room. Smiling as she approached the bed, she began to speak to Alan in hushed tones.

"Hi Alan. Do you remember me from yesterday? I'm Nurse Fox, but if you like, you can call me Allison, alright? I'm on a bit early today but your night nurse had a headache. But enough about her ex-husband," Allison joked as she quickly took Alan's vitals, happy to see the boy back off the oxygen mask with the nasal canula once more in place.

"Can you tell me something?" Alan whispered, trying not to wake his father. When Allison nodded, he continued.

"Is there a giant pink basket over there?"

Allison grinned and nodded as Alan leaned back into the pillow. "When was Lady P here?"

"If Lady P is a British lady, all in pink, accompanied by a guy who moves like a boxer but reminds me of the bulldog we rescued from the animal shelter, she was here right after you had an allergic reaction. She had to leave again, but they seemed very nice and rather worried about you."

"Parker and Lady Penelope are both awesome," Alan yawned, his eyes starting to flutter shut before something the nurse said drew his attention.

"Allergic reaction?"

"A doctor mistakenly gave you penicillin," Allison confided. "But don't worry, Dr. Pierce figured out what was wrong fast enough and you'll be ok."

"Scott didn't belt the doctor who screwed up, did he?" Alan asked, worried about his oldest brother far more than the doctor and not remembering Dr. Krutz coming into his room.

"Nope," Allison grinned. "Your brothers don't strike me as the sort to hit a woman. However," she stressed, "your Lady P laid her flat with one of the best left hooks I have ever seen in my life."

Alan smiled as he drifted back off to sleep. _Yeah,_ he thought. _That's our Lady Penelope._

* * *

Virgil was standing at the stove, yawning as he stirred the scrambled eggs. Finding the consistency he had been looking for, he began to add the diced peppers, whipping the vegetables into the mix. Sprinkling some shredded cheese over the eggs, Virgil lowered the heat as he checked on the coffee and grabbed two more pieces of whole wheat toast as they popped up.

"You are gonna make somebody a great little wife," a sardonic voice joked from the doorway.

Turning slightly, Virgil grinned at the sight of Gordon leaning against the door jam. "And good morning to you, too. I figured the smell of food would drag you in."

Shrugging, Gordon opened up some cabinets until he found some plates and glasses. Once he had set the table, Gordon turned to speak to his brother only to have Virgil hand him orange juice. Another shrug and Gordon began to pour, pausing when Virgil spoke again.

"They're in the living room," Virgil said softly.

Setting down the juice, Gordon headed to a second doorway from where he had entered. Whereas the one he had used was next to the stairway that led to the upper level, Gordon knew the second door led to the living room. Peering through the doorway, he smiled at the sight in front of him.

John was curled up on a recliner, an afghan covering his legs, while Scott was asleep on the sofa, a quilt tucked around his shoulders.

"Did they talk last night?" Gordon whispered.

Virgil came over, wiping his hands on a towel.

"Yeah, before Scotty fell asleep." Continuing to watch his two oldest brothers, Virgil remembered the scene he had unintentionally observed the night before.

_Virgil had come back downstairs, having left John in the kitchen and Scott brooding in the living room, while Virgil had showered. Gordon had headed for bed immediately after the light meal of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup._

_Of course, Scott would never call it brooding, Virgil thought with a touch of humor. He preferred to say that he was "deep in thought"._

"_No, Scott," John was uncharacteristically snarling. "I am not imaging things. Alan does feel incredibly hurt by your actions – yes, yours Captain Perfect – and the fact that you were the one doing it made it worse. God, Scott – you didn't even notice how much weight the kid tended to drop. Why do you think Onaha is always on him to eat? He rarely used to finish a meal with the family, he would even skip altogether when you guys were at your peak. According to the Hackenbackers, it wasn't uncommon for him to lose ten or fifteen pounds without even trying."_

_Virgil could hear the dangerously soft rumble of Scott's to pick out the words. John's response indicated, however, just what the elder brother had said._

"_You're right, Scott. I wasn't around that much. Most of Al's school breaks didn't correspond with my down time from Five. And when I was home during his summer breaks, it wasn't uncommon for me to be doing something with my books. Not to mention, since I wasn't there when he first would come home, Alan was avoiding the house – and the family – by the time I did make it down."_

"_We all love Alan, Scott. I recognize the faults in the way I had been treating Alan and have been trying to make it up to the kid since Spring Break. Alan had very little self-confidence and a poor sense of self-worth. He feels lost in a family of overachievers. But you want to hear something scary? When Al applies himself, I think he could leave the rest of us in the dust. He's smart as a whip, a good athlete, popular, always willing to help others and he can even sing pretty well. He considered going out for chorale, did you know that? The music teacher was encouraging him to do so. But since he was hoping to make the track team and the advanced placement program, he decided not to burn out too soon."_

_Scott's voice was a bit louder but Virgil still couldn't make out the words. "No, Virgil doesn't know about the singing. Advanced placement was my thing, so it took some doing for me to convince Alan I was excited for him to go into the program. Made my day when he said the extra credit course he wanted for science next year – which is only available to the AP students – was astronomy. Even asked if I would sign his text book."_

_John chuckled softly. "I forgot that some schools were using one of my books as a text book for astronomy classes." _

_Sighing, John continued. "Since it isn't swimming, Alan doesn't worry too much about the athletics. He didn't want to hurt Gordy's feelings. And when I jokingly reminded him that I ran track, he asked me if I didn't want him to do it. Scott, you should of seen his face when I told him that not only did I want him to do it, I want him to beat my record."_

_This time Virgil could hear Scott when he spoke. "What record?"_

"_Wh-what?" John spluttered. "What record? Scott, I know you were off to Yale by then, but my record for the 1 mile still stands in Boys High School athletic records. And," John said smugly, "while I was up here for his birthday, I introduced Alan to the track coach for Harvard. I got an e-mail from him last week and he said when Alan is looking at colleges, to make sure he considers my alma mater. The coach from Wharton's knows him and was happy to record Alan's try-outs."_

_Virgil might not be able to see his oldest brother's face, but he was sure Scott was sending a dark and deadly look at the astronomer. Hearing the kettle John had started begin to whistle, Virgil quickly removed it and hurriedly made two cups of hot chocolate. Not as good as what they had one the island but – _

_Looking at the cups, Virgil came to a quick decision and added something to Scott's mug before carrying the steaming cups out to the living room._

"_OK," Virgil said with feigned cheerfulness. "Two cups of cocoa. Not as good as what Onaha makes, but it'll do in a pinch. Um, Scott – here's yours, and Johnny, ok, good."_

_Virgil sat down on the other end of the sofa from Scott as his brothers began to sip at the cocoa. _

_Scott had finished most of his when he finally spoke again. _

"_I never meant to hurt Alan," Scott said morosely._

_John and Virgil exchanged glances before the middle Tracy son spoke up. "And I did?" When Scott began to sputter, Virgil held up a hand. "No, you didn't say it, but ever since John let loose in Alan's room, I realized he was right. Twice in the last few months I have said that I needed to talk to Alan, make him aware that I had been a jerk but that I loved him. At Winter Break, he wasn't home more than a day when Gordon pulled his prank and put Alan in the infirmary for three days. Before he was even back in his own room, rescues picked up and we barely saw him before he went back to school. And he was home less than a day when the Hood attacked."_

_Leaning his head against the back of the couch, Virgil felt a lump in his throat he had to push back before he could speak again. "What if his last memory at Winter Break was of us laughing at Gordon's prank? What if the last thing that he would remember at Spring Break was us harassing him at the dinner table. Scotty, he left without eating a thing! Looking back, I know that was far from the first time that happened. He's still growing – he needs to eat healthy. Not skipping meals because we are harassing him so badly he can't stand to eat with us."_

"_There's a reason," John said softly, "that anti-bullying laws have been put into place. Cyberspace took any safe hiding place from kids to escape peer abuse. Alan didn't really have a problem at school. His problem was at home. And to him, it appeared as if he was being sent away because we couldn't be bothered with him."_

"_That's not true!" Scott exclaimed. He yawned for a moment, then continued. "I wanted him to be home schooled after Spring Break. I – I didn't think Wharton's could keep him as safe as we could."_

"_Scott," Virgil admonished, "Al was nearly killed by the Hood several times without even leaving the Island. Alan may not see home as that safe anymore."_

_Yawning again, Scott acknowledged Virgil's words. "Yeah, I guess. But I just want him to be safe. I want our baby to be safe." Scott's eyes drifted shut and a soft snore began to emit from the oldest Tracy son._

_Virgil moved Scott so that he was lying on the couch, while John pulled out a quilt and pillow from a hall closet. _

"_What did you slip him?" John asked as he tucked the quilt around his brother's shoulders._

"_Mild sedative," Virgil responded as he slipped the pillow under Scott's head. Looking over at John, he bit his lip before continuing. "Um, you aren't gonna tell him, are you?"_

"_And be accused of treason against the Field Marshall? Hell no!" John joked as he walked back over to the closet, digging around until he had a second pillow and an afghan. _

"'_Sides," John continued as he made himself comfortable in the recliner. "A mild sedative knocking him out that fast? Scott had to be exhausted. So we'll consider this a medical necessity."_

"_Why are you gonna sleep there?" Virgil asked. _

"_Well, it will be far more believable that Scott just dropped off if I did as well. Oh, and thanks for covering us with blankets. Very sweet of you," John said softly as he closed his eyes and burrowed into the pillow._

Looking at his brothers, Virgil nudged Gordon and the two stepped forward to wake them up. A good meal was waiting before they headed back to the hospital.

And a Tracy rarely turned down good food.

* * *

Alan woke up again to the sound of his father talking to a nurse. When she heard – or maybe sensed – him awake, Allison turned with a smile.

"Hey there, Alan. You ready for some breakfast?"

As Jeff adjusted Alan's bed, the nurse brought over a tray that had been left on the counter. "Now, this was just delivered. So what was meant to be warm is and vice-versa. Go easy, this is the first meal you've had in two days, but do try and eat as much as you feel comfortable with."

Looking over the tray in front of him, Alan raised an eyebrow and groaned. "No pancakes or bacon, huh?"

Chuckling, Allison shook her head. "Liquid diet now and at lunch, maybe a light meal with chicken and rice by dinner." Casting a glance at Jeff, she smiled. "Maddie sent up a light breakfast for you. Just some fruit, toast and coffee, but with the instructions that she wants you downstairs for lunch." When Jeff began to balk, she continued, "And Maddie said not to make her come looking for you."

Allison began to leave the room when Jeff's grumble of "Doesn't she go home?" brought the nurse up short.

Turning, Allison looked at the Tracys sadly. "She has a place where she sleeps. But this is as close as Maddie has to a home anymore."

Jeff nodded, realizing the family that would make a house a home wasn't something the older woman had anymore, before he said, "Tell her I'll be there. Maybe Alan can be ok'd for dinner and the whole family can go down."

Smiling, Allison nodded. "I'll run it by Dr. Pierce when she gets here. Maddie can make sure something appropriate for Alan is available. But mental recovery is as critical as physical after an accident."

Jeff and Alan ate quietly, Jeff teasingly trying to snitch his son's jello as they spoke between bites. When his father told him about the deal for Paul, Alan nodded in approval.

"He really did try and help, Dad," Alan said as he finished his fruit juice. "And he's a great kid."

"What about the other boy, Alan?" Jeff asked, curious.

"Dad, do you remember some of the other athletes back when Gordo was competing? Great athletes, but lousy human beings?" When Jeff nodded, Alan continued. "It may have been an accident, but had he thought he could get away with it, Barry would have run over me on purpose. Barry thought anything I had achieved had been because "Daddy" bought it for me."

When Jeff would have argued, Alan raised a hand. "Yeah, Dad – I know. You don't roll that way. But Barry felt that way and nothing I could have said or done would change his mind. Just promise me we'll keep an eye on him. He reminds me of the Hood in some ways. Well – without the freaky mind powers."

Smiling slightly, Jeff wondered if the young man was as bad as Alan thought. But thinking of all he had learned about Barry – someone who would run down a teenage, intend to deal drugs as part of his college plans, assault a friend when he knew the friend had a health condition and be overall unrepentant of what he had done once caught - he wondered if that could have been the Hood, if someone had stopped him sooner. Both were unrepentant sociopaths whose entire world resolved around themselves and their own wants and needs, regardless of who could be hurt in the process.

Anything words Jeff may have uttered dried up in his throat when Shana entered the room.

Shana smiled warmly as she approached the bed. Jeff looked on in concern when he saw her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. When she pulled a chair over and sat next to Alan, Jeff instinctively grabbed at his son's hand, trying to infuse his own strength into his youngest son.

Alan wasn't sure what was going on, but the worry in Jeff's eyes and the concern from Dr. Pierce's had him worried. "Um, Dr. Pierce, is everything alright? Look – I'm awake, no penicillin and I even ate all of my breakfast. That's good, right?"

Sighing softly, Shana bit her lower lip before starting. "Well, Alan, first off, I want you and your Dad to know – these test results are preliminary and we can't be sure if -"

Alan cut her off. "Doc – bottom line here, ok? Am I gonna have to – well, am I gonna…Am I paralyzed?"

Jeff clutched Alan's hand even tighter, placing the other hand on the top of the teen's shoulder as he maneuvered himself onto the bed, avoiding the IV and monitors but keeping as close to Alan as he could.

"The scan from yesterday showed there may be a hairline fracture of the vertebrae. Until the swelling goes down more, probably within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, we'll be able to tell more. But for now, it does appear you may have sustained some serious damage to your spine."

"So," Alan asked softly, "the odds aren't in my favor, right? That was what you were saying, right?"

Shana looked like she wanted to argue but the wide blue eyes of her patient stopped her from mouthing wordless platitudes. "That's right, Alan. More than likely, you are looking at some degree of paralysis. I'm sorry."

"Doc, can I have some time with my dad?" Alan asked softly. Shana was almost out of the room when the teen said, "Oh, and thanks for telling us before my brothers got here. It will be easier coming from us."

The door had barely closed behind her when Shana heard Alan begin to sob as if his heart were breaking. Shana had feared such a response and wanted to allow the boy to break down in front of the one person she was sure he would lower defenses for. Tears pricked at her own eyes as she leaned against the door.

_Oh, Mom – what did you do when you had to tell something that bad to a family? I kno_w _your news was often more devastating to some people but to a young person as alive and vital as Alan Tracy, this may be almost as bad. If you have any pull where you are, can we get a hand on this one?_

Shana froze as two floral scents drew her attention for a moment. The scent of lilac seemed to disappear into Alan's room while the smell of lavender surrounded her like a warm hug. Smiling, Shana began to feel better as the lavender reminded her of her mother.

Everyone needed a hug from their mom sometimes.

* * *

_**A/N - OK, I am not a medical person. So not sure how accurate that would be. Just not sure if I need to head back to the writers' protection program.**_

**_Alan - Not such a bad idea._**

**_CC - Alan! How are you?_**

**_Alan - Paralyzed, apparently._**

**_CC - Aw, Alan. I just wanted to have a bit more fun._**

**_Jeff - And how is hurting my son, fun?_**

**_CC (raises an eyebrow) - OK, Jeff - riddle me this...There are over 1500 Thunderbird stories, combining movie and television genre. How many of those are angst or hurt comfort stories? That's right - LOTS. So I am in good company. Besides, you need to be more specific. Which son are we hurting at the moment?_**

**_Alan - Um, that would be me._**

**_CC - Oh, yeah._**

**_Jeff - I do have a question. (CC turns, motioning him to continue.) Where did Scott's dream come from?_**

**_Alan - What dream?_**

**_CC - Wadda ya mean, what dream? Everyone loved that one!_**

**_Alan - Um, hello! What part of unconcious until the start of this chapter didn't you get?_**

**_Jeff - She got your brother pregnant._**

**_CC (splutters) - Um, Jeff can you phrase that a tad differently? I did not get Scott pregnant. I had him dream he was pregnant. There is such a huge difference._**

**_Alan (snickers) - That's better than when Little Miss Bump dyed his hair bright yellow._**

**_CC - Kinda liked that one as well. Scott's chain is so much fun to yank. Anyhow, back to your question Jeff - I also read a lot of Harry Potter. Male Pregs are big there. So when Sam1 was ready to harm Scott, we came to that compromise._**

**_Jeff - Well, that works for me. That Sam1 scares me. I mean, remember the munitions factory?_**

**_CC - Yeah, that was an ouchie._**

**_Alan - So, in other words, be grateful to you._**

**_CC - Yep. Besides, back to the start of this convo - you were due a breakdown, Alan. This gave you an excuse. _**

**_Jeff - Guess that makes sense. _**

**_Alan - Yeah. Hey, anymore of that cake?_**

**_CC - No - but I have more popcorn. And a diet cola for each of you._**

**_Jeff - No diet cola for you? _**

**_CC - I have a regular, allergic to nutra sweet. Do you wanna hurt me?_**

**_Alan - You really want an answer for that._**

**_CC - Alan - I have another story I will be working on. What should I do to you in that one?_**

**_Alan - Um, never mind._**

**_CC - C'mon guys, let's munch down and I'll run some ideas by you. _**

**_Jeff - Can't hurt, I guess. And it is good popcorn._**

**_CC - Yep. So let's sit down and rest before I traumatize you some more._**

**_Alan - Oh, goodie. We get a break._**

**_CC (smiles sweetly) - Alan - never mention breaks around me. I take that literally. (both Tracys look at her nervously) So sit and behave before I gave another bad day and you are my only outlet. Enjoy the ride, boys._**


	29. Surely You Remember

**Left by the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - See Chapter One**_

**_Sorry this took so long, but it was Spring Break here. No, the Hood didn't attack my compound, but what little free time I have I spent with my daughter. In middle school now, so old enough to do a lot without Mom, but still likes to hang with me. I'll take it while I can get it. This chapter is a bit short, but it does have some stuff people have been waiting for._**

* * *

**Chapter 29 - Surely You Remember**

The four Tracy Brothers led the way back into the hospital, catching a glimpse of some of the reporters who were camped out in front of Baystate Medical Center.

"Makes you glad we can cut through the back way, doesn't it?" Gordon quietly joked. He was relieved to see all of his older brothers smiled. Exchanging a relieved look with Virgil, the prankster had to admit, it was a weight off his mind to know that the two oldest brothers had worked out their issues. But Gordon was under no illusion that if the others didn't apologize to Alan, John would continue to feel it was his responsibility to protect their baby from the slings and arrows of his family which had wounded him so badly.

By force if need be.

"Mr. Tracy," a voice called from behind them, making the brothers turn. Ms. Delgado ran up to the group and focused on John.

"Your program seems to be working. But the problem is, someone is logging in but not as themselves, so we have to double check a few things. Your brother's records have been accessed, but always briefly, and never in the more sensitive data. As such, it makes it harder to track. But I will be talking to our IT people for some improvements to the records system. I don't like any unauthorized access."

"Do you have any suspects?" Scott asked urgently.

"I think we may have one," Ms. Delgado said, "but I have to get more evidence before I can say anything. I have security watching the person I suspect today. If I am right, we'll know one way or the other."

"And what will happen if this is the person is responsible for the leaks about Alan?" Gordon asked.

"Immediate termination, of course," Theresa said. "We would also have our legal department give the information to the district attorney's office to determine if there is sufficient evidence to pursue criminal charges. There would be civil charges, if only to protect us from any claims of unlawful termination."

John held out a hand. "Thanks for keeping us updated, Ms. Delgado."

"I do have something that I need to ask," the administrator queried as she shook John's offered hand. When John motioned for her to continue, she pushed ahead.

"Our IT people were floored by your program. How much would it cost to purchase it?"

Looking at his brothers, John gave a quick nod as they came to a silent agreement. "Well, since it isn't commercially available, I'll have to do some tweaks, but I think we can do a cooperative effort which will be mutually beneficial." When Theresa Delgado looked at him in confusion, John grinned.

"The program I'll leave in will be a beta; your hospital can test it. We frequently pay for testing so we could exchange our product for your facility as guinea pigs."

The administrator smiled broadly before leaving the brothers to continue on their ways.

Virgil nudged John as the elevator doors closed behind them, granting the brothers some degree of privacy.

"Is that one of the programs we use up on Five?"

John nodded. "Yep. Modified of course. Don't think the hospital needs that much info on people."

"Dad mentioned you wanted to introduce a modified version through Tracy Enterprises," Scott mentioned.

"Saves us having to find a beta site," Gordon mused.

Virgil chuckled. Leave it to John to find a way to find a practical explanation for using the formerly restricted IR technology. But his amusement drew to a halt when the elevator doors slid open and the brothers could see their brother's doctor leaning against the closed door of room seven, the sheen of tears in her eyes. The young woman suddenly gave a bitter sweet smile and pushed away from the door only to freeze when she saw them standing there.

"Doctor Pierce – Shana," Virgil quickly corrected what he was calling her. "What's wrong? It's – um, it's not Alan, is it?"

Looking around and seeing the amount of early morning traffic, Shana gave a small sigh.

"Why don't you boys come with me? We need to talk."

* * *

Paul Han stood by the window of his room, waiting for his attorney to show up and escort him to the courthouse. When the door opened, he turned and was surprised to see Detective Matthews standing there.

"Detective? Why are you here?" Paul asked in surprise.

Nate nodded at Paul, before looking around the room. "You almost ready to leave?"

Nodding, Paul gestured towards the table. "Nurse Bailey brought my release papers. But Mr. Tagalakis is supposed to take me over to the courthouse."

"Well," the detective responded, "he's busy. So I offered to come and get you, since I was hoping to grab one of the Tracys to bring with us." When Paul looked confused, Matthews continued.

"The same judge doing your hearing will be processing Barry Shaheen and a few others. In Barry's case it is pretty simple. He stands up with his lawyer, gives his plea and then heads straight back to jail, since currently he is considered indigent."

"Barry has family in Chicago," Paul argued. "Couldn't he be allowed to stay with them?"

Matthews shook his head. "His family disowned him. Called it the last straw. Besides, Shaheen is facing multiple felonies, so the state of Massachusetts isn't letting him go. His local residence was Wharton's but since he was expelled and banned from school grounds for the rest of his natural life, there isn't anyone the judge would approve releasing him to."

Paul looked out the window, saddened for a person he had once thought of as a friend. _Man, Barry – when you blow it, you go all the way, don't you?_

"So," the detective continued, "I'm gonna head up to ACCU, see if there is a Tracy who wants to attend the hearing and then I'll be back to wheel you out."

"I can walk," Paul exclaimed just as Linda walked into the room.

Shaking her head, the nurse picked up the paperwork and shook a finger at Paul.

"You will stay put and you will be wheeled from the hospital. Once outside, you can get up, but no one breaks policy on my watch – got it?"

With that said, Linda and Nate both left the room. Walking down the hall, Linda started to turn towards the desk as Detective Matthews was about to head to the elevator, when his low voice drew her attention.

"Have you heard anything on Alan Tracy?"

Biting at her lip, Linda nodded. "I only told Paul that Alan recovered well from the allergic reaction. I didn't tell him what Bill and Shana were discussing this morning." Seeing his concerned look, the nurse moved a bit closer. "They were reviewing Alan's scans from yesterday. It looks like he may be paralyzed after all."

Closing his eyes for a moment, Matthews shook his head before heading off to the elevators. He and the DA wanted a family member present to drive home the enormity of Barry's crimes. They hadn't wanted the public defender to claim "he's a good kid, he just made a mistake – boys will be boys."

But if Alan Tracy were to have suffered permanent damage due to the other boy's reckless conduct... All Matthews could think of now was that if a Tracy was there, should he more worried about protecting Shaheen from the wrath of a Tracy than presenting the right image to the judge?

* * *

Alan sniffed, taking a tissue from his father and wiping away the evidence of his breakdown. "Sorry, Dad," he muttered miserably.

Jeff took his son's chin and forced Alan to look him in the eye. "Allie, you have nothing to be sorry for. You have been through Hell the last few days. If you hadn't broken down, then I would have been worried."

Nodding, Alan bit at his lip before speaking. "Dad, I keep remembering you yelling at me. But I can't remember when or why even though we haven't argued – for -"

Alan froze as he drew back from his father. "There was a picture on the desk behind you. It was the picture you took after my first rescue during Spring Break. You were yelling at me -"

_"What is it Alan?"_

_Shaken slightly at his father's tone, Alan decided hanging up would be worse than pushing forward._

_"I saw the rescue on the vid at the snack shop and-" Jeff cut in on Alan's words at that point, startling the teen into silence._

_"The snack shop? Aren't you in the middle of finals? For the love of – Alan, can't you commit to anything? You promised me that if you went back to Wharton's it would be with a good attitude. I suppose you barely passed any of your classes and now you just want to come home to play at being a Thunderbird. Well, you are in for a big surprise young man-"_

_Now it was Jeff's turn for his words to be cut off as he finally looked, really __looked__ at his teenage son. Alan's expressive blue eyes had gone from shocked to heartbroken in a matter of moments. Jeff knew it had been his own grief over Jack's death searching for someone to hurt as badly as he himself currently was. Sadly, Jeff Tracy was painfully aware that he had succeeded. Alan had always been far more sensitive than he let the world see. And no one had the power to hurt the youngest Tracy more than his own family._

_Especially the father he hero-worshiped._

Jeff thought his heart would break at the look of absolute betrayal on Alan's face. Reaching out, Jeff placed a hand on his son's shoulder only for Alan to pull back and curl into his pillow.

"I'd like to be alone for a bit, Dad." When Jeff tried to say something, Alan's muffled voice stopped him.

"Please. I – I just need to be alone for a minute," Alan whispered.

"Alan, I don't want to leave you alone," Jeff said reasonably.

"Never stopped you before," Alan muttered, miserable.

Jeff stood up, ready to go and let Alan be for the moment when a scent of lilacs drew his attention for the moment. _No, Luc – I can't talk to him when he is like that._

Just as Jeff put his hand on the door, another scent - one that combined citrus and woodsy- was almost overwhelming, stopping him in his tracks. And just as Jeff never questioned sensing his wife being near by, the Tracy father had no doubt that Jack was there with him, refusing to let him take the easy way out.

_OK, OK - I could never stand it when the two of you teamed up against me._

Moving back to Alan's bed, Jeff sat down on the bed and reached out for his son's hand. When Alan tried to pull it away, Jeff held it even tighter.

"No, Alan. I'm not leaving. I've never meant for you to be alone. It's one of the reasons I had you in a boarding school. As for the night you called, I don't know how much you remember, but you called right after a rescue."

"I – I kinda remember that," Alan muttered from the pillow.

"Well," Jeff said, "what you had no way of knowing was that I was there when the one person we couldn't get to in time died. Alan, it was Jack Roy."

Alan looked up at his father. "Uncle Jack?"

Jeff gave a sad smile. "Yes, Alan. It was your Uncle Jack." He looked away for a moment and when his eyes returned to Alan, Jeff was relieved to see his son's bright blue orbs were still looking at him.

"Alan, I felt so angry and guilty. What good was it if we saved the world but still lost people we loved?"

"Can't save everybody, right?"

Jeff let another smile cross his face, a bit less sad than the last one. "Yes, Alan. You can't save everyone. But all I could think was I had pnce more failed someone else I cared for. And I was angry. It seemed like such a waste, and it made me sad to think that Jack had accomplished so much in his career but he was leaving behind experiments and theories – no family. No one that carried on a piece of him."

"Well, yeah – he was in love with Mom," Alan said reasonably. When Jeff looked shocked, Alan shrugged. "C'mon, it was obvious. A lot of what I know about mom, I got from Uncle Jack."

"Alan, you haven't seen Jack since you were a little boy," Jeff responded.

Shrugging again, Alan gave a small smile. "Uncle Jack was a good letter writer. He said e-mails were too impersonal. I tried to keep him up on what the family was doing – none of certain things, of course, just general info. And he would tell me stories of when you and he were in training. Uncle Jack talked about the first time he met Mom. It was at a party at NASA. He said he looked up and saw an angel. Then he saw the way the two of you looked at each other – and he knew he didn't stand a chance. And he was happy for you. Uncle Jack wanted you both to be happy, so he decided he was too."

Jeff looked a bit sad. "So my best friend could tell something to my fifteen year old son he could never tell me."

"Actually, Dad, I was thirteen at the time."

Chuckling, Jeff brushed back Alan's bangs. "He was always crazy about you. Jack loved all of you boys, but you always had a special place in his heart. He couldn't have loved you more if you were his own son."

Alan flinched, a painful memory trickling through his mind.

Jeff became worried. "Allie? Are you OK? Do you need the nurse?"

Shaking his head, Alan allowed his father to move closer. "No, Dad. I – I keep having flashes of being hurt after the accident. The weird thing is, I felt like I wasn't alone. I think – I think Jack was there."

Smiling, Jeff ran a hand over the side of his son's face. "You must have been hallucinating, Alan. It's not unheard of after a trauma."

"I guess, Dad," Alan sighed as he allowed his father to pull him into an embrace. "Yeah, that makes sense. I just needed someone there and I pulled in Uncle Jack. Maybe – maybe you can tell me some stories about you and him."

Jeff nodded as he pulled Alan's face closer, having it cuddled into his shoulder, needing his son to know that he was safe and no longer alone in his pain.

From his father's chest, Alan missed the look on Jeff's face with his next words.

"So how were those park benches, anyhow?"

* * *

_**A/N - Thanks again for the patience. And yes, we had fun. We saw "How To Train Your Dragon" in 3-D (wow, has it come a long way since I was a kid), flew a kite at the beach and went to lunch - twice. Had to work some of the week, but what time I got with my daughter was all the better for it. More next week. Wokay? - CC**_


	30. Chapter 29B

**Left By The Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - see ch 1**_

**_Proof that I have my moments - that it took me to today to realize that FF had cut off half of chapter 29 when I saved it and I completely missed that. So post 31 will be chapter 30, which should be out by the end of the week. So the "convos" at the end of the even chapters will still be on the evens, just posted as odd. _**

**_Yeah, I know. That is weird. Sorry._**

* * *

Shana had brought the four older Tracy sons into the small family conference room that she and Virgil had met in the day before. Once they were all seated, she activated a computer and brought up Alan's records.

"Virgil," Shana began with some hesitation. "Just how skilled are you in medicine?"

Scott looked defensive on his brother's behalf. "Virg may not have a medical degree, but he's a doctor in all but name. I'd wager he's a lot more skilled than the idiot who nearly killed our brother yesterday. Speaking of idiots, that clown isn't going to get anywhere near Alan again – right?"

Shana gave John an odd look before the blonde spoke up. "I never had a chance to discuss it with them."

Nodding, Shana explained. "Dr. Krutz was initially to be put on leave until a peer review, which, by the way, can be a kiss of death to a career. She then tried to take a swing at me. For that alone, Krutz was to be escorted off site."

"You didn't belt her?" Gordon asked. When Scott frowned at him, he shrugged. "Hey, her husband said she had a mean punch when ticked."

"No, Gordon," Shana answered, mentally preparing to ask her husband just what else he had been saying about her. "I didn't. But only because that could cause a conflict on the peer review. However – Dr. Krutz apparently ticked off someone she shouldn't have. She was shot in the parking lot. Two local gang members have been arrested, according to Nate."

"So, she's a patient here now?" Virgil asked.

John shook his head. "Fragmentation bullet straight to the heart. She never stood a chance."

"OK," Scott said. "I'd like to say I'm sorry but -"

"Why?" Shana asked. "I try not to speak ill of the dead, but I would be hard pressed to say anything nice about Ginny Krutz. To know her was to dislike her. I can't stand people who try to deify a person once they are dead. Dying doesn't make you a better person. It just makes you dead."

"Like I was saying," Scott snapped. "Enough about her. What is going on with our brother? Is Alan alright? You looked upset outside his room."

Turning back to the computer, Shana brought up a specific set of imaging results. "Virgil, do you see anything off with these results?"

Virgil's jaw tightened slightly, his only outward sign of emotion. "Is that a shadow there?" he asked, pointing at one spot.

"Possibly," Shana answered. "But the odds are against it, especially considering that Alan has had no response to stimuli on his lower extremities."

"In English, please," Scott snapped.

Surprisingly, it was Gordon who answered. "They think Alan's spinal column is damaged, somewhere between the fourth and fifth vertebrae." When Virgil and Shana both turned to him in amazement, the red-head shrugged. "It was about the same place and the same vocabulary the doctors used after my hydrofoil accident."

"Now," Shana started again. "Nothing is definite. But I have to say, the odds are against Alan."

John stood up and spoke softly. "The odds have been against Alan more than once in his life. The kid keeps beating the odds. He doesn't know when or how to accept defeat. If anyone can beat this, it will be our little brother." Looking at Shana, he asked, "Do Alan and Dad know?"

"I had just got done telling them when you four arrived. They wanted some privacy."

"No big surprise," John answered. "Dad's about the only one Alan would really show how upset he was to. Kid's earned it, don't you think?"

The Tracys all agreed with him, as did Shana. Without another word, they all turned to leave the room, all feeling the need to check on Alan.

* * *

Nathan Matthews came off the elevator and started to head for Alan Tracy's room. He was almost there when he heard his wife's voice.

"I take it you being here can only mean the sitter showed up?"

Detective Matthews turned and smiled at Shana. "Well, Shay, my mother offered to baby-sit the boys until Elena comes back."

Frowning, Shana shook her head. "Nope. Elena is an excellent Nanny and the boys love her. More importantly, she doesn't keep going on about how my career means my boys will be denied their mother's love and attention."

"Aw, c'mon, Ma – I mean, Shay," Nate quickly corrected as his wife glared at him. "My mom loves all of her grandkids, you know that."

Shana smiled sweetly and patted her husband's face. "Listen, babe – all I am saying is this: It would be beneficial to your mother's continued health if she remembers that if I break something, I don't fix it."

As Shana whirled around and slipped into Alan's room, the men paused, with Gordon finally asking, "Did she just threaten your mother?"

Nate shrugged. "At least this is only a threat of bodily harm and not permanent maiming." When the Tracys all stared wide-eyed, he shrugged one more time. "Yeah, Shay's got a bit of a temper. At least my mom has learned not to criticize Shana's late mother. We didn't talk to my folks for more than a month after that one."

Pushing open the door, they found Shana standing next to the bed, talking softly to Jeff and Alan. The men all did their best to ignore the red-rimmed eyes on both father and son.

As Shana finished going over some additional testing that the spine specialist wanted to do on Alan, Jeff looked over at the police detective.

"Detective Matthews, was there something else you needed?" Jeff asked.

"Well," Matthews began, "Barry Sheehan's hearing in this morning and the D.A. thinks the sight of a family member in the galley could push home the severity of the charges."

"I'll go," Scott offered.

"Actually," Matthews countered, "the district attorney and I think John would be the better choice."

"Why?" Alan asked, genuinely curious. After all, Scott was always the most intimidating of the family – except maybe their father.

"Well," Matthews explained, "Scott was the one who punched Barry, something we barely avoided on for charges."

Shana smiled when she saw none of the family was surprised Scott was the one who would punch out someone who had hurt his brother.

"And," Matthews continued, "John already did a fairly good job of intimidating Barry."

"John?" Alan asked in amazement.

Nate leaned forward. "Made him pee in his pants. It's always the quiet ones, Alan."

Alan gave a small laugh, relieving his father and brothers. As long as the youngest Tracy had a positive attitude, they were sure they could get him anything.

Jeff suddenly looked up and interrupted as his second son and Detective Matthews made plans to meet downstairs and head over to the courthouse.

"Detective Matthews," Jeff started, pausing when the man turned before deciding to push forward. "When we were looking for Alan, you called your wife Macy. Unless polygamy is legal and you have another set of twins somewhere, I don't see how you got Macy from Shana."

Shana glared at her spouse. "What did I tell you about using that name? Especially around other people! Oh…You are in so much trouble, flat foot!"

Whirling, the young woman marched to the door, muttering something about ordering tests and departing as quickly as she could.

When the Tracys all stared at the detective, he shrugged. "Remember when I told you Shana and I met when she punched a drug dealer who tried to shoot me in my treatment room of the ER?" Once he saw all the Tracys except Alan – who had been unconscious at that time – nod, Matthews continued.

"Well, he had back up. And one of the nurses' keys was on the counter where she had set them when they started treating me. Shay grabbed them because the nurse had a small thing of mace on the key ring. She used it on the second guy. So I teasing called her Mace Lady, or, well, Macy. She didn't mind too much until my family found out about it. Between the teasing and my mother's remarks, Shay basically said if anyone else found out about it, I would suffer in ways I don't care to imagine."

"She's your wife, what could she do?" Alan asked.

Jeff patted his son's leg. "Allie, before you even start to seriously date, we need to have a talk."

"Dad," Alan grumbled. "I know about sex." At Jeff's wide eyes, he shrugged. "I had the most embarrassing talk with Kyrano before I came back to Wharton's and I know way more than I ever wanted to know about the subject."

"Ah," Matthews smiled as he walked out with John. "To be young and naïve in the ways of women and their mighty powers of guilt." Seeing his wife – not to mention several nurses and one lab tech – glaring at him from the nurses' station, he pulled at John's arm. "Um, time for a strategic retreat."

John gave a small smile and wave as he followed the detective to the elevators. While Shana could obviously intimidate even her hard-boiled husband, John could think of worse things than to have won the love of a woman like that.  
That was something worth fighting for.

* * *

_**A/N - Again, sorry. I will answer all reviews for both parts of ch 29 before 30 goes up. **_


	31. What a Charming Fellow

**Left by the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - See Chapter One**_

**_When you absolutely, positively gotta whump the Tracys..._**

**_Diabetic warning will be in this chapter._**

**_Oh, and to a certain PM - I appreciate your opinion, but will have to respectfully disagree. My OCs are what makes it MY story and not just a new chapter of canon, and I try to find something good in my bad guys and yes, my good guys are flawed people, who do see some consequences. Sorry if not as much as you like but when most of them work for their father/ father-in-law, consequences may be a bit differences. Please take note - a few bad guys (ex - Barry in this story) ARE sociopaths. They have none -if any -redeeming qualities. But I do appreciate your efforts to improve my work. And the difference in my writing since I started posting is signifcant, not professional significant, but significant. And it's what makes me happy. I have no plans at this time of becoming a professional writer. _**

**_It would take so much of the fun out of my writing if I had to make money at this._**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty - What A Charming Fellow**

John sat next to Detective Matthews, the row behind the Prosecution table. He stiffened for a moment when Paul Han walked in with his attorney, taking the seats directly behind them.

Nate turned, patting Paul on the arm. "It'll be fine, Paul. You just get up, agree to the plea and get on with your life."

"Let's hope Alan has it that easy," John muttered.

Detective Matthews and Mr. Tagalakis both froze at this but Paul decided to push ahead.

"Mr. Tracy, I know you are still angry with me, and I don't know if I can blame you. But what mattered to me was that Alan forgave me and he's going to be alright. And I hope he and I can still be friends after this. I didn't get to know him as well as I'd like to have but he's a very special person."

"Alan may not walk again," John whispered, not wanting the extent of his brother's condition to become public knowledge at this point.

Paul bowed his head. "Is – is there any hope?"

John looked over at the younger man, finally seeing someone who was, for all intents, still a boy. Sighing, he ran a hand through his platinum locks.

"The doctors just aren't sure at the moment. But Alan doesn't give up easily. If he can, he'll walk again." Smiling slightly, he handed Paul a small notebook and a pen he had pulled from a pocket.

"Write down your e-mail, I'll give it to Alan so he can keep in touch with you."

Paul did so, handing it back to John with a tentative smile. He hoped that meant that another Tracy was forgiving him – at least somewhat.

The bailiff entered at that moment, standing in front of the court, announcing," The 50th District, of the State Court, for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, is now in session. The Honorable Kevin Landman presiding."

A thirty-something, slightly balding man entered dressed in judicial robes and took a seat as the rest of the galley followed suit. "OK," Judge Landman muttered, "I hear we have one deal worked out followed by the usual bunch of fruits and nuts."

John let out a snort while Nate was doing his best not to laugh. Behind them, Paul whispered, "Is he for real?"

Peter Tagalakis nodded. "Judge Landman is an interesting man. He had health problems as a child, only to grow up and join the Marines. He was a Judge Advocate during the Terrorist Wars. Basically, he is this amazing combination of acid and marshmallow."

Paul looked at the lawyer in wide-eyed amazement but before he could say anything the judge spoke out.

"Well, we haven't got all day. Where are the parties for the plea?"

Mr. Tagalakis stood up, pulling Paul with him. They moved to stand in front of the bench, with the District Attorney on Paul's other side.

"OK, I've read everything," Judge Landman began. "Basically, for a smart kid you did something really stupid, didn't you?"

Paul nodded, only speaking once he attorney nudged him.

"Yes, sir."

Landman waited a moment, giving a small smile before nodding in approval. "Good. You don't try to apologize or whine. I like that. OK, most of this looks in order. I see you even got a legal representative for the victim to sign off. Jake Getty?"

Tagalakis and the DA both nodded, so Judge Landman continued. "Kid, you are so lucky - Jake Getty could have buried you."

John snorted, not caring who heard him. Oh, yeah. Uncle Jake could have buried him. The family lawyer could be vicious when it came to protecting his friend's family -especially Alan, his godson. Most people had been amazed when the attorney had volunteered to help run the world court's case against the Hood. But the family knew much of that had to do with Jake having read Alan's medical report after Spring Break.

Looking across the room to John, the judge motioned with his gavel. "You have an interest in this? Or are you just some smart aleck sitting in my court?"

Standing, John addressed the judge. "No, sir. I mean, yes I have an interest. Not so much in Paul Han, but in the other boy."

Judge Landman looked over his notes. "Yeah. Got great notes on that little ray of sunshine. So are you related to the victim or just a curious bystander?"

"His name is Alan," John almost growled. Nate tried to shush him, but John continued. "You keep calling him the victim. His name is Alan, he's fifteen, and he loves race cars, astronomy and running. He's a person. And he's my kid brother."

Rather than being upset at the rebuke, Judge Landman cocked his head. "Step forward. Yes, you blondie."

John moved closer to the bench and the judge addressed him once more. "So – the boy that was hit is your brother. That would make you one of Jeff Tracy's sons."

"Yes, sir," John agreed. "I'm the second son, John."

"The fact that he's Jeff Tracy's son doesn't really matter to me. But," Landman continued before John could say anything, "his being barely fifteen and completely innocent in what happened does. Now, the lawyers argued this out. But I'd like you to tell me if you think I should agree to the plea deal which will basically let this young man walk away."

* * *

Alan had listened more than he had talked as his family went out of their way to cheer him up.

Frankly, they were driving him crazy.

Finally, Jeff went to use the showers and Scott and Virgil were talking in the hallway, leaving the two youngest Tracy sons to have a moment alone.

"So -" Gordon asked. "How are you really feeling?"

"Well," Alan snapped, "below the waist, not much." Seeing the wounded look on his brother's face, Alan sighed.

"Sorry, Gords," he mumbled. "This is just kinda rough. I'm scared to death. I had plans for my life and none of them included being pushed around in a wheelchair."

"I think Dad would spring for an electric wheelchair," Gordon smirked. When Alan sent him a death glare, the red-head reached up and tickled his little brother under his arms until Alan was breathless with laughter.

Once Alan's breathing was back under control – had to keep the heart rate such so the nurses wouldn't come in – Gordon became serious.

"I know you're scared, Allie," he said softly, running a hand over his younger brother's hair. "But we're all gonna be there for you. No matter what."

"Pretty unrealistic, Gordy," Alan said softly. "I always felt like I was being left behind. How can I keep up with you guys from a wheelchair?"

"I swear to God, Al," Gordon vowed. "We're gonna find a way to make this right. You just – you just can't give up."

"I promise, Gordy," Alan said, grasping at his brother's outstretched hand.

Gordon turned on the bed, pulling Alan into an embrace. "Sprout, we love you. You know that right?" When Alan shrugged, Gordon leaned his head against his brother's. "I remember when you were born. I ran into school that day and told everyone that I was a big brother. Alan Shepard Tracy had been born and it was my job to be his big brother and take care of him."

Sighing, he closed his eyes and pulled his brother in closer. "I haven't done a good job at that lately, huh, Allie?" Gordon sighed

When Alan looked at him in confusion, Gordon brushed a hand over the golden locks again. "After my accident, when I had recovered enough to start training for the "family business", Dad sent you back to school. And I just wanted to fit in with Scott and Virgil. We'd tease John when he came down from his "lab", but John didn't react very well. You had a roaring temper, so it got a better reaction. We crossed a line, Alan and went from kidding with you to bullying. And I am so sorry for that. I never want you to doubt again – you are wanted and you are loved. And I don't know if out family could survive without you in it."

"Now," Gordon said as he made sure he was looking Alan in the eye, "the deputy dictator and Virg the Surg are probably gonna wanna apologize. Whatever you do – don't make it easy on them. Make them grovel and beg for your forgiveness. You hold the honor of little brothers everywhere in your hands. Guard it well."

Alan was chuckling when Gordon became serious once more. "And I am so sorry about that mess back in February." When Alan looked confused, Gordon continued. "Alan, I could have killed you with those walnuts."

"Did you know I was allergic to walnuts, Gordon?" Alan asked. His brother shook his head in the negative, so Alan continued. "So you didn't mean to almost kill me. Which compared to a drunken idiot running me over and a bald freak trying to strangle me, makes you much higher on my ranking system. However," Alan punched his brother's arm. "I still owe you for the laxative."

Gordon chuckled and pulled his little brother into another hug. He really did love the kid.

* * *

John was shocked that someone was asking his opinion on this. He was sure one of the reasons Jeff hadn't asked for his sons' opinion on the deal that had been offered to Paul Han was that he knew they – with the possible exception of Gordon – would have objected. But as he looked over at the younger man and thought about Alan's fierce defense of his schoolmate, John knew what his youngest brother would want him to do. Turning back to the judge, John came to a decision to be the advocate for Alan his brother needed.

"If you had asked me that question twenty-four hours ago, your honor, I wouldn't have just said no, I would have said hell, no. But my brother – that would be Alan, by the way – really took me to task yesterday when I discovered he had forgiven Paul." John looked back at Paul again before nodding.

"Paul Han is a good kid who did something stupid. He tried to make it right. And he is sincerely repentant. From what I understand, none of that can be said about the other boy. So am I good with this? Not yet, but I am getting there. But I will fight tooth and nail for anyone who tries to get the jack-, um, jerk, who ran my brother down and then admitted that he considered leaving a fifteen year old boy to die on the side of a road like he was garbage because he considered Alan to _be _garbage – I am here to make sure he knows that our family is going to do whatever it takes to protect and defend our own."

Judge Landman looked over at the DA and smirked. "Intimidation factor, hmm? He's not about to take a swing at the defendant, is he?"

As John returned to his seat, he muttered, "Nah. That would have been Scott. So not the subtle Tracy."

The judge cocked his head slightly. "Scott would be the oldest, right?" When John nodded, Landman gave a small smile. "Sounds like my older brother." Looking at Paul he nodded.

"Alright, young man, I have spoken with the head of the Math Department at Cal-Sci. Professor Eppes was adamant that he has arranged for your community service and other requirements. I wouldn't mess with this man; he has been a consultant for a variety of government agencies over the years and has some very deep roots in the law enforcement community."

"I assure you, your honor," Paul softly responded. "I have no intention of blowing my second chance."

Nodding again, Judge Landman motioned for Paul to move aside. "I have a few real criminals to process at the moment. One of them is your former friend. Do you feel secure enough to stay here or do you want go to a conference room? There are still some papers for you and your attorney to sign."

Paul stood a little straighter. "If possible, I'd like to wait here, sir. I thought Barry was my friend and – and I need to see him." Part of Paul also wanted to be there for his one-time friend. Barry now had no one. And even if Paul could no longer be friends with his former classmate, he wanted one person to be in that courtroom who was accepting the worse if praying for the best. But as long as Barry refused to accept that this really was his own fault, Paul knew the system had every intent of pushing the envelope on what kind of punishment he would receive.

Once Paul and his attorney had moved further back in the courtroom, Judge Landman nodded at the bailiff. The main show would now begin.

* * *

Jeff, Virgil and Scott all walked back into the hospital room at the same time. They smiled at the sight of Gordon and Alan curled up together on the bed, Alan fast asleep.

Gordon had obviously only been dozing, opening his eyes when his family entered. "Hey," he smiled softly.

"Hey back," Jeff joked lightly, sitting on the edge of the bed even as Scott claimed the recliner and Virgil began to check Alan's chart and vitals.

"He forgave me everything, Dad," Gordon said in a slightly husky voice. It was obvious he was still feeling somewhat emotional.

"Even for the walnuts?" Virgil teased, happy to see Gordon relaxed.

Smiling, Gordon nodded. "He was surprised at that. Allie said he knew I hadn't meant it and that I was an idiot to think he was still mad about it. Well, he has promised payback on the laxative."

"Think I can get a piece of that?" Scott grumbled.

"Nope," a soft voice spoke up. The Tracys looked down to see Alan had woken up again. "Nope," he said again. "John and I have got some plans."

"Johnny?" Virgil asked in surprise. "What could he do?"

"Virg," Alan said sleepily – he really did still tire rather easily. "I learned something over the years. Intelligence and patience can be a rather dangerous combination. John has both in spades. And we came to a decision during Spring Break."

"So what have you planned?" Jeff asked warily.

Alan just smiled and drifted back to sleep.

"OK," Jeff sighed. "You three are in trouble. Alan just had the look on his face your mother used to get when I knew she was going to nail my hide to the wall."

Scott and Virgil looked at each other nervously. Alan taking after Gordon was somewhere between annoying and nerve wracking. Alan teaming up with John, combining brains, patience and pure creativity?

They were so doomed.

* * *

Barry Shaheen walked into the courtroom, seeing his attorney waiting for him. Lorraine moved over to the defense table, shuffling through some paperwork before joining her client.

"Barack Shaheen, you are charged with attempted vehicular manslaughter, drunk driving, leaving the scene of an accident, assault and unlawful imprisonment." The judge looked over his paperwork. Giving Barry a raised eyebrow, he sarcastically remarked, "What – was this your idea of a Senior Prank?"

When Barry just glared, Landman shook his head. "OK, what's the plea?"

"Not guilty, your honor," Lorraine said firmly.

"Really? I would have never guessed," the judge said sarcastically. Looking over Barry, he calmly stated, "Held over for trial. Bail is set at half a million."

"Your honor," Lorraine argued, "my client doesn't have access to that kind of money. This isn't fair."

"Ms. Desrocher," Judge Landman said calmly. "I've had a chance to talk to a member of the victim's family," he gestured to John. "And I don't trust your client not to run off. He has no community ties, no family to vouch for him and nothing we got to hold him with. And all I can do is send him to jail. I think the vic's family would do whatever it takes to make sure Mr. Shaheen faces justice."

"See?" Barry said, "I'm getting threatened again. All because of that little bastard."

"Actually," John softly said. "I believe I told you – I don't make threats."

Seeing the raging fury causing John's eyes to burn as two blue flames, Lorraine turned away, thanking God that she was not doing anything to infuriate the man – or at least she hoped she wasn't. Then her nose wrinkled slightly as she glanced at her client.

She was fairly sure he would need a new jumper.

"Bailiff, return the defendant to his seat," Judge Landman gestured to Barry. "We only have two others and neither of them is going anywhere soon, either."

A second bailiff walked the two gang members in, where the public defender tried to argue that the men had community ties and were not a flight risk, while the DA basically responded with a "you gotta be kidding me". The judge had the look of a pre-school teacher clearing a fight on the playground, while John and Nate just looked amused. So it was only Paul who noticed the look one of the gang members exchanged with his former friend.

"Mr. Tagalakis?" Paul asked softly.

"Hmm?" The attorney looked up from his notebook computer.

"I think Barry and that gang member are up to something."

Peter Tagalakis patted the younger man's arm in comfort. "They are all heading back to lock-up, Paul. What harm can they do behind bars?"

As the three young men were led away, John, Nate and Paul all looked in concern at the smug looks on the faces of the accused.

"Oh, they are so up to something," John muttered to Detective Matthews.

"Why do you say that?" Nate asked, curious as to how a "civilian" had come to the same conclusion as he had.

"Trust me – growing up in my family, I've learned to spot when someone is up to something."

_And those guys, are up to something._ John thought. _But I will be damned if Shaheen will escape justice. Shaheen better learn that saying from the movies – bastards have brothers. And Alan's brothers are going to make sure no one hurts him again. _

* * *

_**A/N - OK, Barry is up to no good - so what is new about that? And the Tracys are trying to deal with the consequences and heal their wounds.**_

**_Alan - Yeah, but do I have to be such a whiner baby?_**

**_CC - Alan, you are not being a whiner baby. But you are a fifteen year old kid who is scared to death of what is happening to him. I'll fix it. It's all good._**

**_John - All good? That creep is about to pull something, isn't he?_**

**_Sam1 - Yep, but I think he needed another new set of pants after seeing you in the courtroom._**

**_Alan - Sam1? Is that you?_**

**_Sam1 - Yep. I'm here at CC's invitation._**

**_John - Not that I'm not glad to see you - let's face it, between you and CC I have more of a, um, "personal" life than I do in the rest of fan fic combined. But the idea of you and CC in the same room? People have been known to die when that happens._**

**_CC (frowning) - John, Alan - Sam1 is merely here because it's her birthday. I couldn't think of a better present for her than for to join us for some cake._**

**_Sam1 - Well, you could do something really hinky and I - (freezes at the three way glares shot at her)_**

**_CC (growls) - You said you'd behave if I introduced you to John._**

**_Alan - Hey! What am I, chipped beef?_**

**_John (snickers) - No, jail bait._**

**_CC - Um, Alan, you are off limts for that kinda stuff at the moment, OK? Besides, Sam1 keeps bringing comments of "accessories" into the conversations that you hopefully don't get at this time._**

**_Alan - I am not that young._**

**_CC - Alan, what part of eighteen months older than my child - my BABY - don't you get? You are young, naive, and sex is still icky, got it?_**

**_Sam1 (nudges John) - She is in major denial of Janie getting older._**

**_John (sighs) - Can you magine what Scott will be like with Alan? (Everyone shudders)_**

**_CC - OK, everyone chill out. Or chillax. _**

**_Alan (snickers) - CC, you can't do street._**

**_CC - What? Janie said it, why can't I?_**

**_Sam1 - Janie sounded kinda silly saying it too._**

**_John - I thought she sounded cute._**

**_All three look nervous when CC growls._**

**_Sam1 - John - no guys are allowed to call her daughter cute any more. Not if they value their manhood. Or can you say dull spoon?_**

**_Both Tracys gulp and eye CC who gives them a feral smile._**

**_CC - Cake, boys? Sam1?_**

**_Sam1 - Sounds good? (Eyes John and smiles) - It's triple threat chocolate cake - 1100 calories a slice._**

**_Alan - (mutters) - John, just take the freakin' cake and keep CC busy. I'll signal the others on my watch._**

**_CC - Watches don't work here, Alan. Yes, I hear you. What part of I am the writer don't you get? Now, enjoy the cake. And Happy Birthday, Sam1._**

**_Sam1 - Boys, sit down and eat. I'll keep her distracted. And CC is much less likely to hurt Tracys than I am. (Takes a bite of cake). MMM. This is good. Later, boys._**


	32. 31 Your Worse Than a Couple of Girls

**Left By the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - see chapter one**_

**_Do you believe I had this origionally as a 7-8 chapter story?_**

* * *

**Chapter 31 You're Worse Than a Couple of Girls**

Alan sat quietly in his wheelchair, looking out the window at the gardens below. The last twenty-four hours had been interesting, to say the least. John had come back in time for dinner, and, after the liquid breakfast and soft food – jello was the only thing recognizable to Alan – lunch, the bland chicken in teeny bits and bland rice was the nectar of the gods. The meal was more enjoyable by the fact that Alan was out of his room, with his family, for the first time since the accident. Most of the testing could be done in his room, and for security reasons, it had all been done there so far.

He supposed he wasn't supposed to hear, but the youngest Tracy knew that several attempts had been made by the media to get to him and his family. Sighing, Alan knew if he returned to Wharton's, the paparazzi would try to gain access to him at the school as well. Part of Alan was grateful to his father for the media blackout on his life. So many of his classmates had had every moment of their life documented in the media but for all of Alan's father's fame, Alan had always been able to go about relatively undetected.

Thoughts of Jeff brought back the feelings Alan had been overwhelmed with upon recalling the pseudo argument that had driven him into the night where he had been struck down. There was still a bit of anger with his father. But Alan knew the man loved all of his sons. That had never been in doubt. It was the question of if Alan was wanted, if he really mattered, to his family. There were times that Alan often asked if he were to disappear, would his family notice? Did he really matter? Was he – was he the one Tracy who seemed to only take and not give, making a difference for the family?

Everything was so confusing. Gordon had even apologized to Alan yesterday and said that Virgil and Scott felt bad as well. But neither brother had said anything to him.

Paul had stopped by on the way to the airport. Virgil had distracted Scott so that Paul could say good-bye to Alan. The rest of his family had moved to the window to give the two teens the illusion of privacy.

"_So," Alan drawled, "ready for the California sunshine and bikini babes?"_

_Paul shook his head, "I wish. Nope, Dr. Eppes already has stuff lined up for me at Cal-Sci, my dad has work at the store and my grandma wants me to repaint the house. Not a room - the whole house. I think they want to make sure I don't even THINK about getting in trouble again."_

_Chuckling, Alan nodded. "Yeah, that's family for you." _

_John winked at Alan from the other side of the room, the other blonde giving him a sense of security that drove Alan to ask what he may not have otherwise._

"_Wh-what did Barry have to say at his hearing?"_

_For a moment, Paul looked like he wouldn't say anything before he blew out a breath and shook his head. "He's an idiot. Nothing is his fault. It's my fault, it's your fault, it's the Man in the Moon's fault – but it's not Barack Shaheen's fault."_

_Alan snorted with laughter, "Barack? No wonder he's such a jerk. It's been programmed into him since birth."_

_Jeff snorted back a laugh from where he stood with his back to his youngest son, leaving Alan with no doubt that his father had heard everything._

_Paul smiled at his younger friend. "Yeah, well your Dad named all of you for heroes. What does that make you?"_

_Alan returned the smile. "I always saw my family as heroes. As for me, we'll have to wait to see. For now, I just want to grow up, finish school, figure a few things out -"_

"_Walk again?" Paul asked. When Alan worried his lower lip, Paul placed a hand on the younger boy's arm. "John told me. It's not definite, right?"_

"_No," Alan whispered. "It's not definite."_

_Paul smiled again. "Yep. So, just remember, as one kid I tutored recently said to me – Never say never."_

_Laughing, Alan nodded. "Yep, never say never."_

"_Paul?"_

_Peter Tagalakis stood in the doorway, giving Jeff and John a brief nod of recognition before turning back to his client. _

"_We need to get going if you are going to catch your flight."_

_Paul stood up before taking Alan's hand. "I can never apologize enough, Alan. I'm just glad you forgave me. I hope some day, well, it won't be at Wharton's, but I hope some day I am there when you run." Alan looked ready to say something when Paul held a hand up._

"_Yeah, I know what the doctors said. But you are one of the most stubborn guys I have ever met in my life. You have focused determination and – as my grandma would say - sheer cussedness down to a fine science. If anyone can overcome this, I believe you will."_

_Walking to the door, Paul smiled at Alan over his shoulder. "Take care of yourself. Alan. I know you'll do great at Wharton's next year. I'll be waiting to hear from you."_

_Alan smiled and nodded, but his smile faded as the door shut behind Paul. He was lost in his thoughts until he felt the bed dip next to him. Looking up, Alan saw his father sitting next to him._

"_Dad?" When Jeff nodded encouragingly, Alan continued softly. "If I – If I won't be able to walk back into Wharton's, will you still send me away? I mean, I'd just be in the way at home, so I would understand." _

_Alan found himself pulled into his father's arms. "You," Jeff said forcefully, "are not in the way, no matter what your physical condition. You are Alan Shepard Tracy, you are my son and the last gift your mother gave me. I love you very much, Alan and I am sorry that you have ever felt that you were not an important and precious part of our family." _

_Leaning back, Jeff smoothed back some hair from Alan's face._

"_If it turns out that you aren't – if you are paralyzed Alan, you can be home schooled until – and if – you feel confident enough to go back to school."_

"_Of course," Gordon drawled from the windows, where John was also watching with concern, "If you stay at home, Virgil and Scott will doctor and smother-hen you until you are ready to beg to be sent back to school."_

_From the comfort of his father's embrace, Alan gave a weak smile. He knew Gordon was trying to make him feel better. But as John caught Alan's eyes, he was also sure that his other blonde brother wasn't fooled for a minute. Alan was more afraid of not going back as the same person he had been before than he was of his brothers smothering him with attention. The young man who had attended boarding schools for years was one who may not have been that great at academics until recently, but he was one who was known as an athletic, active person. Even with his newfound academic skills and interest in tutoring, Alan had been incredibly excited to be joining the track team. To lose that was to lose such a big part of himself._

_But would going home for good be any better? Would Alan really be happy being the son left behind again? Even if he learned to run Command and Control to free up someone to go on missions, how long would it be before he resented his own family for doing what he couldn't? Or worse, would they begin to cut him out again, figuring that Alan couldn't understand what they were doing since he wasn't out in the field with the team?_

Alan was drawn from his memories by Virgil popping into the room.

"Hiya, Sprout!" the middle Tracy Brother called out cheerfully. "So, have you had enough of looking at the gardens?"

"Oh, yeah, I suppose," Alan mumbled. "What new and exciting test do they have for me now?"

"None for now," Virgil mused. "I just thought instead of looking at the gardens, we could go for a walk in them."

"Don't walk much, Virg," Alan grumbled.

"So you get to ride," Virgil shrugged. "You always say we push you around. Guess this time we will."

Alan shook his head. "Leave the jokes to Gordon, Virgil. You're just not as good."  
Smiling, Virgil moved Alan towards the door, relieved beyond measure that Alan was no longer hooked up to an array of medical devices or monitors. Now if they could be so lucky as for Alan to not be confined to the wheelchair. Because it was becoming painfully clear that Alan's spirit was as damaged as his body and one may be easier to heal than the other.

* * *

Barry Shaheen sat on the bus, keeping an eye on the five other prisoners being transferred to a more secure facility under the watchful eye of two corrections officers. Since they had boarded the bus, the two gang members had not made eye contact with him. But before they came aboard, Asesino had whispered "Be ready", telling the eighteen year old that they would never make it to their new accommodations.

The two gang members sat still, anticipation making it hard for them to sit still. Asesino Herrera had not gotten as far as he had by playing the fool. Little Marco knew few details. Herrera knew the man would follow him to the darkest pits of Hell. But discretion was among the many words Marco didn't know the meaning of.

Bob Binnie had been a corrections officer for the Massachusetts' Prison System for thirty years. Milk runs like this were easy-peasy. He couldn't understand why people were so up in arms over budget cuts. In past days, there was one officer for every two prisoners, never more than a dozen prisoners at a time. The driver was a retired MBTA bus driver and the other officer was a trainee named Paulie Hodes. Frankly, Binnie doubted Hodes would last long in this career field. The rookie actually was concerned about the comfort of the scum they were transporting. He would be in for a shock soon enough –

A shock ran through everyone on the bus as a pick-up truck with a steel-reinforced grill plowed into the side of the bus, knocking it over. The bus rolled once before teetering, finally landing straight up once more.

Binnie raised his head, looking around while he tried to get his bearings straight. "H-Hodes?" he whispered shakily, trying to spot the rookie, only to wish he hadn't. The younger man was laying on his back with his head twisted at an impossible angle. Three of the prisoners were covered in blood, debris having ripped through their bodies like a knife through wet paper towels.

Barry looked up as Asesino grabbed his arm. "Are you coming or not?" the gang leader muttered. Standing shakily, Barry was about to say something when a young Hispanic man forced the damaged bus door open.

"Jefe," the newcomer drawled in an accent that was a bizarre twist of some kind of Spanish and the sharp twang that belonged distinctly to New England.

"Angelo," Asesino snapped. "An accident, I said. Not try to kill all of us."

"Sorry," Angelo grinned, completely unapologetic. "But I made sure to hit the side you weren't on. Your odds were better than those sorry bastards, weren't they?"

Looking around, Barry saw that one guard, three prisoners and the driver were all dead.

As Angelo kicked at the badly injured, but still alive, corrections officer, the eighteen year old found his voice.

"Wasn't there a sheriff's car following us?"

"Another accident," Asesino explained. "A cute little chica is handling that one. Stupid cops will never know they were set up."

Personally, Barry suspected the cops would figure it out, but he wasn't about to say anything.

Asesino leaned over to check on Marco. The other gang member looked up at the man he had followed since before he could shave. "B-boss," he gasped. "Can't move my legs. I'm messed up bad. You gotta help me."

"Of course, mi amigo," Asesino crooned. "I will always take care of my own." Holding Marco's face in his hands, the gang leader made a sudden sharp twisting motion, snapping his compatriot's neck in one clean move.

Standing, Asesino looked over at Barry. "He wouldn't have wanted to live like that. Sometimes, you have to be cruel to be kind."

While Asesino had been _attending_ Marco, Angelo had relieved the badly injured Officer Binnie of his gun and keys. Removing Asesino's and Barry's restraints, Angelo eyed Barry and pointed his new weapon at the former Wharton's student.

"Should we kill him now, Jefe, or do we need a hostage?" Angelo coldly drawled.

Asesino laughed. "This is the guy who nearly killed Jeff Tracy's kid. And he was about to start a whole new franchise for our business." At Barry's startled look, Asesino grinned. "Dude, there is no drug business in this area that me and my associates don't control. Bored students from that fancy pants school haven't just been good customers - a few have become good mules or distributors. I've gotten some sweet connections from Wharton's." Looking back to Angelo, he shook his head.

"Nope. See, I figure, the cops are not gonna figure on me taking the kid with me. He'll make a good front down in Miami."

"What about Carlos?" Angelo asked as they started to get off the bus.

"Working on it," Asesino said. "By the time it gets to trial, evidence is gonna be missing and anyone alive had better be suffering from amnesia. Then he'll join me down south for a while until he learns the trade well enough. Might be able to come back in about five years or so."

Passing the shattered body of Officer Hodes, Asesino grabbed the man's rifle. Handing it to Barry, the gang leader whispered, "You owe me, amigo. Time to bind yourself to me." He gestured to Officer Binnie. "No living witnesses, right?"

Binnie looked up at Barry, pleading, "N-no…Pl-please."

"Sorry, dude," Barry responded coldly. "But no one else is offering to help me. Guess it's just not your day."

The flash was seen more clearly than the rifle's bang was heard, at least in the last second before Barry's shot plowed into the correction officer's chest. As he gasped his final breaths, Binnie could hear the sound of the truck's transmission being thrown into gear and pealing away.

When the new county sheriff's car pulled up behind the bus, they first thought it had stopped because it realized it had lost its tail. The shattered glass on the road made the deputy call for back-up.

The carnage inside the bus made him lose his lunch.

* * *

Virgil was at a loss. He had cheerfully tried to engage Alan in conversation all the way to the gardens. It had been what Stan the orderly had called "the round about way" but it made sure that they avoided any of the media circus that still flocked around the hospital. Every time Virgil looked at the vultures he was reminded scenes from Hitchcock's "The Birds".

"All you need is Tippi Hedren in a phone booth, huh, Virg?"

Startled, the middle Tracy son looked at the youngest. Alan had a small smile on his face which unfortunately didn't reach his eyes.

"Sorry, Al," Virgil apologized. "I didn't mean to say that out loud."

"I remember when Gordo was hurt," Alan murmured, seeming to ignore his brother's apology. "We had to sneak in and out of the hospital. Most of the time, I wasn't even with any of you."

"Dad was determined to keep you out of the press as long as he could," Virgil explained. "The media knew what we looked like. You weren't as recognizable."

"What was it like when -" Alan began only to let his voice drift off. Glancing up at his brother, Alan turned away. "Never mind."

"What was it like when Mom died?" Virgil answered. When Alan nodded, Virgil gave a small smile. To people outside of the family, they were often startled at how well the Tracys could read each others.

Somberly, Virgil continued. "It was bad, Al. Scott was barely fifteen and you were still just three. Yet the media seemed to think they should capture every nuance of five kids who had just had their world effectively shattered. Dad was devastated, especially after they managed to get a photographer into Mom's funeral. And when you were still in the hospital – well, let's just say Uncle Jack threw a few intrepid members of the fourth estate out of the hospital. And down some stairs. And in one case, actually out of a second story window."

"He was great," Alan said softly as Virgil settled the wheelchair next to a stone bench and sat next to him.

At the use of the word "was" Virgil looked at his youngest brother. "Um, Al, did you know -"

"That Uncle Jack is dead?" Alan interrupted. "Yes, Dad told me. He said that is why he was so upset when I called…"

Looking at Alan, Virgil reached out to take his brother's hand. "Dad felt awful about that. He is blaming himself for you being out there. We are trying to convince him you don't blame him but -"

"I think a part of me does," Alan interjected. "I know he would never want to hurt me but he did. I know you all think I need to toughen up but you guys, you know me so well, and all I ever want to do is make you guys proud of me."

"We are proud of you, Al," Virgil interrupted this time. "And we will prove that to you, I swear. But you are our baby, like it or not. Part of us wanted to protect you. And the easiest way to protect you was for you to stay a kid. We could keep you safe if you were a kid."

Running a hand over Alan's hair, Virgil looked at his brother, startling Alan with the tears in his brown eyes. "But you keep getting hurt. We leave you where you should be safe and when we are not with you, someone keeps hurting you."

"But that isn't the worst part, is it?" Virgil asked. When Alan looked confused, Virgil continued. "We hurt you. Us. Your family, the people who should have never hurt you. John was right about that. It was our job to protect you and we wounded you as badly as outsiders had. Or maybe even worse. They hurt you physically. We went straight for your heart and mind, didn't we?"

"We have no excuse, little brother," Virgil said softly. "But I swear to you, we may not be able to prevent us from ever unintentionally wounding you. But I can say that we will remember that you are growing up and while you may need us to stand beside you, you can still stand up for yourself."

"Not doing that well, these days, in the standing part," Alan said softly.

"It's not definite, Alan, and we'll keep trying. Dad won't stop until he goes through every possible medical avenue. So you aren't gonna have to take this lying down."

Alan looked up at Virgil, "So sitting is somewhere in between?"

Chuckling, Virgil nodded. "Yeah, I guess. Al – before I lose my courage, I just wanted to say how sorry I am. The teasing Scott, Gordy and I did was unforgivable. We drove you further from the family and I missed how you weren't eating or sleeping right. As team medic, that is bad." Holding Alan's chin in place so his brother could keep the eye-to-eye contact, the "family doctor" continued.

"Allie, we love you and want you to know that no matter how asinine we have been, we love you, If we lost you, I don't know if we could survive that kind of pain twice in a lifetime. We are just hoping you will forgive us for being jerks."

"Forgive" Alan mused as he treasured the sunbeams trickling between the canopy of trees. "Yeah, Virg, I forgive you guys. However – payback is a necessary skill and one I must not fail in. In this regards, John has offered to pay what he sees as a debt of honor by helping me organize my righteous campaign."

Groaning, Virgil leaned back and looked up. "We are so screwed."

"Virg!" Both Traycs turned to see Scott running towards them,

"What? Some reporters make it back to here?" Virgil asked, alarmed.

Scott shook his head, leaned over to whisper, only to have Alan snap "And I need to know what it going on."

A new voice entered as their father and Dr. Perce calmly walked towards them from another angel. Jeff ran over to his youngest and knelt down. "Alan, the bus containing Barry Shaheen and a few other violent offenders was in a crash. In the chaos, Shaheen and at least one other escaped."

"I'm sorry, Alan, but until we can be sure Barry doesn't want come after you, you'll have to stay inside," Shana apologized, motioning for the men to wheel Alan back inside.

Shaking his head, Alan looked over he the concerned looks on his father and brothers. "Guys, he's probably on the first bus outta town. I'll be fine."

No one listed to his argument as Alan was wheeled back into the hospital.

In a area of the far side of the garden, Barry groaned in disappointment. "He was there. Just one brother - We could have grabbed him and a few hours later we'd have a small fortune to get us out of here."

"Patience," Asesino drawled. "Know that you know who and how, you are soon to find out where and when. Even if we never get the opportunity, we do get a sweet hiding place."

Angelo continued to pull the shutters and door close on a small structure in the middle of the garden. Once done, he grabbed the "Under Repairs" sigh he had stolen from the security shack, the gang member made sure no one was around before he slipped them into the gazebo like burlng. "Opportunity." he drawled, "sometime take a bit of planning,"

The three fugitives pulled into the gazebo hiding and hoping for rest and – possible – a business opportunity, And Alan Tracy, hurt and vulnerable could play a major part of it.

* * *

_**A/N - Sigh. Just when you think I can't think of anything worse...Of course I can! Not completely happy with this chapter but I am trying to set up certain things to happen. And it takes what will be coming up. So I hope you will continue to hang with me. Another convo next chapter. Laters! - CC**_


	33. Ch 32 A Spot of Trouble

**Left by the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**

* * *

**_

Disclaimer - see chapter one. And I think eleven. I'm sure I repeated myself at least once.

**Chapter 32: A Spot of Trouble**

"I don't see why we don't just head home," Alan asked, trying to keep any whine from his voice.

"Alan," Shana responded firmly, "your family and I had this discussion. It hasn't been that long since you were in a life-threatening position. A long airplane flight, even on a comfortable personal plane, followed by a stay on a remote island, is not an ideal situation. Give me forty-eight hours, then you can go home, OK?"

"Fine," Alan grumbled, as he moved back towards the window. "That will give Kyrano time to build some wheelchair ramps."

Sighing, Shana sat down on the sofa she had had brought into Alan's room. With most of the medical equipment removed and the room designed to be for up to three patients, there was enough space for the hospital to create a comfortable area for Alan and his family.

"Alan," she began, "I know you are feeling frustrated -"

Whipping the chair around with a dexterity that Shana found surprising, the young physician found herself pinned by two fiery blue eyes. "You _know? _You think because you are a doctor you get it? I'm barely fifteen. My life as I knew it may be screwed over permanently. And now, based on some ranting by the jerk who put me in this chair, I am not even allowed to leave this room. It was bad enough that Barry may have made me a prisoner of my own body, but now I am the one who has become confined to a cell."  
Moving closer to where Shana still sat on the sofa, the teenager continued in a voice that showed the tears gathering close to the surface. "And you have the nerve to try and say you understand? That you get it? You may be my doctor and I am grateful for what you have done, but you can't begin to understand how I feel."

"I was twelve when I ended up in a wheelchair," Shana began. Alan stilled, his eyes wide in confusion. Shana took that as a sign to continue.

"My dad was a U.S. Senator. A rarity in Washington, he was an honest politician. He discovered that a major project, an expansion of Logan Airport in Boston was riddled with fraud, waste and kickbacks. Daddy couldn't be bribed and he wasn't about to be scared off. He had scheduled hearings to begin in DC right after Memorial Day. Well, I guess some of the creeps involved figured if he wasn't there, everything would die down. They ran us off the road. We were driving up 95 North at night, headed to our family's summer house for the holiday weekend; the car went into the brush and was almost impossible to see from the road."

Shana's eyes were set on Alan's face but it was clear that wasn't what she was seeing from the haunted look in them. "We were there for two and a half days before someone noticed the bits of debris and skid marks. My parents were alive for almost twenty four hours. Soon after Mama died, Daddy did as well."

"I was stabilized at a local hospital before Dr. Axtell, as my guardian, had me transferred down to here. I spent almost six months here. Multiple surgeries and therapy of every shape and form. Even after I was released…Well, it took a while. Soccer was out, as was dance class, so I focused more on my studies. I was half-way through college before I could walk without a cane. But I never gave up. I guess the same thing that forced me to survive, trapped with the dead bodies of my parents, my only real family, was the same thing that wouldn't let me accept being in a wheelchair. If I was still in it today, I would probably still be fighting to get back to the person I was. Maybe I have never accepted I can never be that twelve year old girl who was forced to learn that the monster under the bed was imaginary – but that there are far bigger monsters in her fellow man."

Standing, Shana looked down at Alan. "At least you still have your family, Alan. And yeah – I do get how scared and angry you are. I just wish to God neither of us ever had to find that out."

Alan watched sadly as Shana left the room. When the door reopened, he looked hopefully for either his family – for comfort – or Shana – to apologize. Instead, Stan was wheeling in some electronics.

"Hey A-Man," the big man drawled. "Dr. Pierce had me raid one of the conference rooms. Flat screened TV, blue-ray disc and some movies. And I'll be grabbing a folding table and some chairs so your family can eat in here with you. Hopefully, it won't last long. Your family should be back soon."

Alan nodded but said nothing. Stan paused in his work, looking at the teen with concern.

"Let me guess - you snapped at Shana and feel bad?" When Alan looked at him in surprise, the orderly smiled.

"Don't worry, she gets it."

Shaking his head, Alan softly responded. "She told me about her folks."

"Did she?" Stan asked, surprised. "Shay doesn't talk about that much." Looking at Alan, Stan sat on the couch to be more at eye level.

"Don't worry. I've known her for years. In fact, I was a seventeen year old juvie working off some community service when she was brought in here. Kept coming around even after I did my time. Dr. Axtell got me in the Air Force – the black mark had been as a minor so my record got sealed when I turned eighteen. Shana got me a job here as an orderly when I came back after the Terrorist Wars. I think she always had it in her to be a good doctor. But the hell she went through is what makes her a great one. It made her into a real fighter."

Standing, Stan continued to set up the equipment in the corner. "You're a fighter too, Alan. Just like Dr. Pierce."

Giving the television one last tweak, Stan picked up his tools and headed to the door. "I gotta go arrange that dinette set, OK? But if you never give up, you already are gonna be further than most people ever will go."

Smiling, Alan blocked the wheelchair, ignoring the TV in favor of the beautiful day outside the window. Thinking of Gordon and Shana, two people he knew who had both been told they shouldn't even be alive and yet were living examples of the amazing spirit one human being could possess in the refusal to accept limitations set by others, Alan decided it was time he stopped thinking of what others said he could do and start seeing what he really could accomplish.

Walking would be nice. But if he was determined – he would run.

* * *

While Alan was trying to come to terms with everything, the other Tracys were meeting in a small conference room that Shana had arranged for them. Conversations and calls whipped back and forth as quickly as possible. International Rescue contacts and Tracy Enterprise resources were being activated – as well as the company business handled in a few cases – as they tried to track down the current whereabouts of Barack Shaheen.

"Dad," Gordon spoke up. "Do you think we are overreacting? I mean, why on Earth would he go after Alan? If he has any brains, the jerk is headed out of town as fast as he can go."

"You didn't see the look on his face at the hearing," John answered for their father. "He blames Alan for everything that has happened to him."

"And according to a jailhouse informant," Nate said as he entered the room, "Herrera got it into his head to "tutor" Barry in penitentiary 101."

"Don't forget what was also revealed by the other boy, Paul Han," Jeff spoke up. "When we were looking for Alan at Wharton's, Shaheen tossed up the possibility of sending a ransom demand for your brother. If he was willing to do that when he thought Alan was probably dead, what would he be capable of knowing his would-be victim is hurt and vulnerable?"

"There isn't much I would put past that bas-" Scott trailed off when Jeff shot him a glare.

The other brothers weren't fazed by a grown man abruptly adjusting his language at parental admonishment but Detective Matthews was highly amused, earning him a dirty look from Scott.

A quick knock to the door was their only signal that Stan was about to enter. "Alan is all set up in his room. And the room next to his has some cots if anyone would rather stay next door."

Looking around the room, Jeff hid a smile as he realized that none of his sons wanted to be outside of calling distance should Alan need them.

Stan continued, directing his comments directly to Detective Matthews. "And the cops sent over this schedule," he said, handing Nate a data pad. "A Captain Briggs wanted to know if you wanted any changes made."

Nate read down the list, nodding in approval. "No, Eddie made good calls on these." Raising his head, he handed the data pad back to the orderly. "How did you get stuck doing a bunch of milk runs? Baystate should have maintenance, but when I asked Shana, she said you were handling all the details."

"One," Stan answered, "I pull orderly room duty for the Guard a lot, so I am used to organizing. Two, Shana wanted only people who were completely trustworthy involved in this for security reasons. And finally, some charm and savoir faire are required in re-appropriating assets on this scale. Nobody does that as well than yours truly."

With a cheeky grin, Stan turned to leave. Pausing at the door, the orderly addressed Jeff directly. "Maddie said she was sending a meal up for your family tonight and would have breakfast organized in the morning. She's just waiting for Shana to give her the all-clear on what is good for Alan."

Stepping over to the younger man, Jeff reached out his hand. "This facility has gone far above and beyond for my family. I want you to know how grateful we are for all the extra effort."

Smiling, Stan nodded as he shook Jeff's hand. "Blame Shana. That gal has been pulling this place together since she was a kid. She always says that karma is as good a reason for helping your fellow man as any. And you know what she says about if you help ten people -"

"If you help ten people, and two of them help another person each, you'll have made the world better – a dozen people at a time," Nathan responded.

Thinking of their own work with International Rescue, the Tracys smiled.

Shana _definitely _would have made a good Tracy.

* * *

Angelo Ramirez slipped into the hospital through the loading docks, having picked a carton off a truck being unloaded. No one seemed to notice the extra set of hands being offered to the medical supply company delivery driver.

Sadly, no one even noticed when Angelo sat down the box and passed through the automatic doors, directly into Baystate Medical Center.

If the Tracys heard the gossip flying fast and furiously around the hospital, they would have fallen somewhere between amusement and annoyance, that the world seemed to find their lives so fascinating. But for Angelo, sitting in the cafeteria on the lower level of the facility, it was useful.

Angelo hadn't been sure if hanging around the area was such a great idea. Between the three of them, there would be multiple murder charges hanging over their heads. But Barry Shaheen had ranted and raved about Alan Tracy and how the "snot nosed brat had ruined my life". In all honesty, thought the ex-prep school kid would prefer just to kill his former schoolmate.

At some point, Barry had apparently told Asesino about his "brilliant idea" to try and get some ransom money out of Jeff Tracy. The gang leader thought it might not be a bad idea to grab the kid for real. Angelo had disagreed but wasn't stupid enough to say it out loud. He had no doubt the Tracys would do all they could to protect their youngest member but greed had blinded the usually rational Asesino. The blindness had become contagious when Angelo had come across an old magazine in one of the hospital waiting rooms. Reading the magazine as a cover for dawdling over a cold cup of coffee and a pre-made sandwich, Angelo had read all about the Tracy family in a copy of People. Private Island? Jets designed by and flown by the family? All shares of the multi-billion dollar company were apparently either held by Jeff Tracy himself, one of his sons, or in trust for the two youngest boys, as they needed to be twenty-one to claim the stocks. But it was estimated by one Wall Street insider that if the stocks ever were to be made public, they would have an opening value that would put the average investor well off the mark. The article also explained about the charitable trust Jeff Tracy had founded in his wife's memory and how much money was given away each year.

So if he would give that much money away in his wife's memory, one had to wonder how much money the billionaire would give to protect one of his sons – especially the family baby who was rumored to look so much like the dead Lucy Tracy.

But the idea had begun to lose favor with Angelo as he listened to the stories that were being passed around by the employees as they ate in groups of two or three. Apparently, the Tracys had underwritten the cost of having the part-time security guards go to full time for the hospital. In addition, both the State Police and the local yokels were supplying personnel. Most threateningly of all was the news that Jeff Tracy and all four of his older sons – two of whom were ex-military, all of them physically fit and a serious threat – were staying on-site, determined to protect Alan Tracy until the teenager was healthy enough to leave the hospital. The only thing on their side, as far as Angelo was concerned, was that the doctors felt the kid wasn't well enough and that gave them the opportunity to make some serious cash.

Armed with the information he thought that could help them get to Alan Tracy, Angelo began to casually make his way out of the hospital. Moving through the emergency room, Angelo hoped to go unnoticed in the crush of humanity that made up any ER ward. He was almost to the exit when his eyes were drawn to the television mounted on the wall, the local news just finishing up a story about the prison break out. Angelo almost smiled when the words "daring" and "brilliantly executed" were thrown about.

Damn, he was good.

But the smile that was trying to force its way up was shoved ruthlessly back down when the next story began. Angelo struggled to control his shock as realized what the reporter was saying, the local correctional facility in the background.

_...a horrific crime but the victim is no stranger to violence. Carlos Herrera, a sixteen year old gang member from Springfield, was being held here after he ruthlessly executed a drug dealer who was operating without approval of Herrera's older brother, Enrique "Asesino" Herrera, leader of the Blades. The murder of the alleged drug dealer was witnessed and reported, with Carlos being picked up by the Springfield Police Department within minutes of the crime. After a brief gun fight, Herrera was taken to Baystate Medical Center for a minor gun shot wound to his left arm. Treated and released, Herrera was taken to this facility, usually used to house adult offenders. _

_Why the sixteen year old was brought here is still being debated. If convicted, Carlos Herrera would have undoubtedly been brought to this or a similar facility under Massachusetts state law. Sixteen year olds, considered minors in most states, are treated as adults if convicted of capital murder. But prior to trial, he should have been taken to a juvenile facility._

_Instead, Carlos Herrera was brought here where he was attacked in a bathroom. The victim of a vicious assault, the teenager was found by a guard, bloody and naked. He died enroute to the hospital. His family was notified by officers who were already at the home investigating the prison bus escape of Enrique Herrera a short time earlier. In fact, an insider has indicated to us that there were fewer guards in the area where Carlos was attacked because scheduled rounds had been disrupted due to the elder Herrera's escape._

The broadcast drifted off, with the cheerful weatherman promising a beautiful week to come before a commercial for McDonald's Happy Meals began. Watching Ronald McDonald chatter happily with a couple of kids made Angelo itch for his missing gun.

"Are you ok, sir?" a young woman asked him.

Angelo turned and coldly eyed the candy striper. "I don't like clowns," he snarled before marching out of the ER.

The teenager shook her head. "Doesn't like clowns. Jerk. Who doesn't like clowns? Well, besides that cute guy on Supernatural."

* * *

Scott walked into the room, smiling when Alan looked up at him from near the window.

"Heya, Sprout," Scott said as he sat on the couch near his baby brother.

"Hey yourself," Alan said softly before he turned from the window. "And don't call me Sprout."

"This is all pretty messed up, isn't it?" Scott asked as he ruffled Alan's hair.

"Yep," Alan quipped before sighing. "I just want to go home. But I get it. Dr. Pierce is right; I need to be monitored before any long hauls."

"Of course, if anyone had listened to me, you wouldn't have been here to get hurt in the first place," Scott firmly said, stopping when Alan glared at him.

"Yeah, cause the Island was so safe from the Hood," Alan grumbled. "Scott, no where on Earth is completely safe. And it sucks, but who says I couldn't have been hurt there? Or on a rescue," he whispered.

"We would have been there," Scott started to argue, only for Alan to interrupt.

"And you are here now. Now is what matters."

Scott was silent for over a minute as he stared out the window before looking back at his youngest brother.

"Alan, John – John said it was worse when I teased you. I know it hurt – I can see that now. But why is it worse that I did it?"

Alan's blue eyes shimmered with tears he refused to let escape. "Why? Scott, how the hell can you ask why? You're my big brother. I mean, all of you are my older brothers but you are my _big _brother. The one who walked me to kindergarten and dropped me off that first day, the brother who taught me how to ride a bike…the one who was supposed to protect me. I remember when you were filling out your application for Yale. Under real-world experience, other kids would have listed working at some part-time job or volunteering. You described taking care of me. Yeah, the others as well, but a lot of your essay was about how you were my parent in all but name."

"You read that?" Scott asked, surprised.

Grinning, Alan shrugged. "I copied it to a zip drive and still have it. Most teenagers would have sounded resentful at how much you were expected to take care of your little brother. You made it into an achievement to be proud of. It made me feel good to know I was that important to you."

The grin faded as he looked at Scott. "I felt like I wasn't important to you anymore."

Scott let out a small cry before pulling Alan into a hug. "Don't you _ever _say that again. You are more precious to me than you could ever understand. The only way you can hope to get just how much you mean to me is the day you have a child of your own."

Pulling back, Scott didn't try to hide the tear that slipped down his cheek. It broke his heart to see a matching one on Alan's face. "I love you more than I can ever say. The first time I ever held you, I couldn't help but give you such a big piece of my heart. I would have done anything to protect you. But in trying to protect you, I refused to see you were growing up. As much as I hate the Hood, in some ways – in some ways, I am glad that happened. He made us see how much we had to lose. How much we almost lost not just to him, but to our own stupidity. If everything had gone as it was, we were going to lose you soon, weren't we?"

Alan found himself unable to answer, not even sure if he could. And Scott knew he couldn't through the lump in his throat. The youngest and oldest Tracy sons were content to lean closely, holding onto each other as they gave each other silent comfort, as they had done years earlier. And once more, they knew that together, Tracys could overcome anything.

It was the Tracy Way

* * *

_**Alan - Man, was that sappy.**_

**_Sam1 - Yeah, I tell CC she has to post diabetic warnings but she doesn't listen._**

**_Scott - With all due respect, you are a fine one to talk. Of course, you don't do sweet._**

**_John - No, but you should read her rated M story. She can certainly do spicy._**

**_Alan - Why? What's in it?_**

**_Sam1, Scott and John - Never mind!_**

**_Jean - My, CC was right about the two of you. _**

**_Alan - Which two are you right about and who are you?_**

**_Jean - Ah, well, I meant frick and frack._**

**_Sam1 (nudges the older brothers) - That would be you two._**

**_Jean - And I'm Jean, aka Sammygirl1963. I'll be covering for CC today._**

**_Alan (frowns) - Um, are you the one who gave me malaria?_**

**_Jean - Well, it was a present for CC. Her birthday, don't you know._**

**_Scott - Next time, try chocolates._**

**_Sam1 - She isn't much into chocolate. And she gave Jean a sweet story for Christmas about Alan and Jeff and Jeffy._**

**_Alan (confused) - Who's Jeffy?_**

**_Jean - Your son._**

**_Scott and John - ALAN!_**

**_Jean - Hey, that story took place over thirty years. Alan was all grown up before his son was born._**

**_Scott - Oh, ok._**

**_Jean - Now Scott, come sit down. CC left some chocolate chip cookies and cocoa. She knew that I wanted to meet you as much as Sam1wanted to meet John. I've got a thing for brothers._**

**_The group sits and begins to eat only for a pounding noise to draw their attention._**

**_Alan - What was that?_**

**_Jean (smiles) - No idea. (Hands Sam1 a key)_**

**_Sam1 (stuffs key in her pocket) - Nope, no idea at all._**

**_John (looks around) - Hey, where is CC anyhow?_**

**_Jean - Let's just say we have been reading her story since the start and have taken a page from her book. Or at least her convos._**

**_Scott (grins) - You locked her in the closet? Lady, you are awesome._**

**_Alan - OK, I just want to remind you of one thing. When CC gets mad, people get hurt. And she is claustraphobic. So how do you think she'll react to this?_**

**_Sam1 - Damn. Forgot about that. (Looks at Jean) We are so busted. _**

**_Jean - Dang. At least she only ever named a restaraunt for you. She has named a character for me. She could really hurt me!_**

**_John (sips his cocoa) - Join the club._**

**_Alan - This should be good. (the brothers clink their mugs) Hold on gals, and welcome to the Crazy Train._**


	34. 33 It's Just a Little Water

**Left By the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - See Chapter One**_

* * *

_**WARNING - HEAVY USE OF OC'S IN THIS CHAPTER. IF THIS OFFENDS YOU, READ NO FURTHER. BUT IT WOULD MAKE FUTURE CHAPTERS ILLOGICAL.**_

**Chapter 33 - It's Just a Little Water**

"Shana!" Nathan Matthews called out, causing his wife to turn around. He knew she was annoyed at him running and yelling in the hospital, but Shay was just going to have to suck it up.

"Nathan," Shana hissed. "What is your major malfunction?"

"My mother is picking up the boys -" the detective began before his wife interrupted.

"What the hell is she do -" Nate was the one cutting off his spouse in this round.

"Shana, the man who killed Dr. Krutz escaped from the prison bus today." When Shana gave him her patented "SO?" look, Nate sighed as he continued. "Enrique Herrera – a.k.a. "Asesino" – is the leader of the Blades."

The physician nodded. Few people in the community had not heard of the gang leader who had repeatedly escaped justice. Shana had, however, been unaware that the man was the one who had killed Klutzy.

"His younger brother was that GSW vic I mentioned the day Dr. Krutz was murdered. Asesino knows the name of the two cops who arrested his brother and the one who prevented him from getting to his brother here at the hospital."

Nathan's gesture towards his own chest made Shana aware that her spouse was the one who would have earned the gang leader's wrath by blocking his access to his sibling. But she was confused as to what one thing had to do with any other.

"I want you to stay at the hospital tonight. My parents, the boys and the families of the two SPD officers are being brought to safe houses." Seeing Shana was still confused, he leaned in closer, grasping her by the shoulders.

"Shay, Carlos Herrera was raped and beaten in prison by members of a white supremacy gang. He died in-route to Springfield General Hospital. When Asesino finds out what happened to his little brother, he's going to be out for blood on anyone he holds responsible. That could include the cops – or cop's family – that was responsible for his brother being there."

Shana's eyes were wide with shock and Nathan could feel the slight tremors running through her body. He pulled her in close, hugging her and running comforting hands up and down her back.

"Baby, I am so sorry. It's one reason I never minded you keeping your maiden name professionally. You are less likely to be connected to me that way." Kissing her lightly on the top of her head, Nate continued.

"With all the security for Alan Tracy added at BMC, you should be safe here. I'll call you when I know something. More than likely, Herrera and Shaheen have both left the area, but just like no one should be taking any chances with Alan's safety, I am not taking any chances with you and the boys."

Kissing her firmly on the lips, the detective stepped back and gave her the lopsided grin she had fallen for not so long ago. "You know my father will block any of Ma's attempts to corrupt the boys, right?"

Shana gave a shaky laugh. She knew her mother-in-law may not care much for her, but the woman did love her grandchildren and would guard them almost as fiercely as she herself would. Brushing a gentle hand over her husband's cheek, Shana smiled in return. "You just remember, flatfoot – you promised me forever and a day. You need to keep your promise."

Nathan began to walk away, wanting desperately to run back and hold onto his wife. But just as she was dedicated to her patients, he was sworn to uphold the law.

And he had a bad guy to catch.

Shana gave a small swallow as the doors swung shut behind her husband. Forcing down her fears – and her tears – she headed back to her office. At least this way she could keep an eye on the Tracy family. Jeff Tracy reminded her of her own father and she had quickly come to care deeply for young Alan. The family's love and loyalty was something to treasure in this crazy world.

And maybe – just maybe – she could forget the worst part of being a cop's wife. Wondering if that was the day his job would shatter her world.

* * *

Barry sat on the hard wooden bench, wanting desperately to slide open one of the slats that they had secured to make the gazebo into a good hiding place. Angelo had even procured an "Under Repair" sign from the maintenance department so that no one would question why the structure, usually left open and available once Spring came to town, was now locked down tight.

The former Wharton student glanced over at Asesino. The gang leader was rereading the newspaper that Angelo had found abandoned in the garden. It had amused both members of The Blades to see Barry listed as a "violent offender". He could still recall the caustic remarks Asesino had made.

"_Says you're a dangerous man, my friend," Asesino glanced at Barry, a smirk on his lips. "And I quote: __**Two violent offenders, with complete and utter disregard for human life, are at large with their current whereabouts a complete mystery." **__Asesino shook his head. "I kill ten – no, make that eleven. I forgot about the bitch I killed here in the parking lot. You run down the son of one of the most famous men on the planet and you get put on the same level. I guess it isn't who you know; it's who you blow away."_

_Angelo snickered before slipping out to do some re-con, leaving Asesino reading the paper and Barry content to glare at the ceiling. _

_What had he been driven to?_ Barry found himself wondering about that frequently. He was supposed to have graduate from Wharton's today, then his parents, who were to have flown out for the ceremony, had planned on escorting their son home, to a huge party to include all of their relatives and half the neighborhood. Instead, his family was hiding from the media, denying his very existence.

No one wanted to be family to the guy who nearly killed Jeff Tracy's son.

And now Barry was hiding out with ruthless gang members. Barry was all for looking out for number one – he had been doing just that all of his life. But the Blades were psycho ruthless. He wasn't sure if this was survivable. _Oh, well. Better here than in prison as someone's bitch._

"You say something, Man?" Asesino asked drolly.

"Just wondering where Angelo was," Barry made up. "Hoping he brings some food with him."

Asesino looked as if he didn't believe him, but pushed on. "If Angelo says he would, he will."

Picking at his nails, Barry continued to make small talk. "So – I've been trying to place Angelo's accent. Where is he from?"

Leaning back against the wall, Asesino grinned. "Interesting story. Angelo is one of the few older member of the Blades who was born here. But when he was seven, his mother killed his old man for trying to sell him to a dealer. Little kids made good look-outs. His mother was here illegally, so she grabbed Angelo and his little sister and headed back to Honduras. When he was eleven, his mother, who had remarried by then, let his step father throw him out. Guess she figured he was old enough not to need Mama to look out for him. It took him three years, but he eventually made it back up here to live with his father's family. But any time he screwed up, it was back to being "the murdering whore's son". At sixteen, he was living on the couch of any one who had one for the night. In the winter, my Mama insists he stays at our place. Once the snow is gone, Angelo is back to his wanderings, but the man is fiercely loyal to me and my family because if it is cold, or raining, or he is sick, he knows there is at least one place he can turn to. Angelo would die for me. And I know he would kill for me. He does have a weird habit of using only the Spanish words he seems to think makes him sound tough. A harmless thing, if you ask me."

"Mind you," Asesino drawled, "he is a little crazy. Too many times of getting slammed into walls when he was growing up and his brains are scrambled on occasion. But I never doubt his loyalty. That is a rare treasure in my neighborhood."

As if the discussion had drawn the man in, Angelo slipped into the building, unable to look Asesino in the eye as he stood just inside the door. Instantly, the gang leader stood up, concerned at his lieutenant's posture.

"Angelo? Did you get the information we need?"

"Si," Angelo said quietly. Pulling several sandwiches and a few soda bottles from his deep pockets – all paid for with the five finger discount – Angelo handed out the food to the other two men but did not speak any further.

Asesino and Barry sat down and began to devour the sandwiches, as Angelo explained what he had discovered about the security surrounding Alan Tracy. "So," Asesino drawled as he swallowed another bite of the pilfered sandwich. "He almost never leaves the ward, which due to the age of the patients is restricted to begin with. At least one member of his family is on duty twenty-four/seven and there is a law-enforcement officer seated at the nurses station across from his room."

"And baby boy here has his picture posted with all security officers," Angelo added in a monotone.

"Fine," Asesino said. "In the early morning hours, we'll steal a car. You said the loading docks open at 4:30?" When Angelo nodded, the gang leader continued. "Good. We head in around 4:30, everyone should be asleep. You get what else I told you to?"

Angelo nodded again, tossing out a bag. Asesino opened it, finding the scrubs so that he would look like a medical personnel. "You find any ID?" he asked before grunting at finding the badge at the bottom. "S. Nevada? Medical Assistant? What the hell is that? Never mind," he said quickly. "Just so it gets me close enough."

Wiping his mouth from any crumbs, Asesino leaned back, resting his head on his arms. "You know, maybe we can make this two-fold. Get us some traveling money and my little brother back. Think the good people of Massachusetts would surrender one alleged murderer – who committed a public service, killing a drug dealer, if you ask me – for the youngest son of Jeff Tracy?" Snickering at his own humor, Asesino fell asleep, missing the looks of dismay on the faces of his companions.

Barry was once again wondering what he had gotten himself into, while Angelo worried what Asesino's reaction would be that it would be more likely to take a deal with the devil to get back Carlos – because no person on Earth had the power to raise the dead.

* * *

Shana reentered Alan's room, glad to see the entire Tracy family gathered.

"Hey," she smiled as she approached the group. John and Jeff were setting up the table, while Alan was surrounded by his other brothers, watching an "Indiana Jones" movie and doing a running commentary on how they would have handled the risk of the moment.

"What's up, doc?" Alan cracked, turning slightly and tossing a grin at his doctor.

"Someone is in a much better frame of mind, huh?" Shana teased the teenager.

"Still not happy-happy," Alan joked. "But – I'm trying."

"Your best effort has always been all we've asked for," Jeff smiled at his son.

"Here kinda late, aren't you, Dr. Pierce?" Gordon asked. "Hubby still isn't in the dog house, is he?"

"No," Shana said quietly. "I am staying at the hospital tonight. So if you need me, just have the nurse send out a page. I'll be asleep on the couch in my office."

"Do you have patient you are that worried about?" Alan asked, wheeling himself away from the television.

"I tend not to have many patients I follow through with, Alan," Shana explained. "In some cases, like yours, I also sign on as the hospitalist, but with most patients, I hand them off to a resident."

"Alan, Shana can't really talk about her patients with you," John began only for Shana to continue.

"It's alright, John. I really am not staying for a patient. Nate would have had me go with the boys if he didn't know I would be reluctant to leave the Medical Center on such short notice." Seeing the entire family was now intrigued, Shana sighed and continued.

"The second prisoner that escaped with Barry Shaheen is a local gang leader. His younger brother was arrested the same day he was, but processed earlier. It was announced earlier that the younger brother was murdered in prison and Herrera is going to be out for blood of anyone he may hold responsible. The police are concerned he may try to go after Nate's family so I am supposed to stay here at the hospital while my in-laws are taking the twins to a secure location."

Shana sighed before she continued. "The fact that I don't use Matthews should help, as does the fact that the boys are Pierce-Matthews, just like I am outside of work. Nathan's mother has never understood our reluctance to use his last name. But while most of his family is cops, none are detectives – especially not something like the Major Case Squad of the State Police. Nate's had death threats before and the difference in our names makes the connection less noticeable."

"What was a detective from the Major Case Squad doing investigating Alan's disappearance?" Scott asked, having turned off the television and following his younger brother's movements.

"Puh-lease," Shana drawled, relieved for a change of subject, hating the thought of how dangerous her husband's chosen career could be. "The son of one of the most famous men on the _planet _goes missing and you think the Commonwealth won't pull put all the stops? Massachusetts wasn't about to have it said we lost Jeff Tracy's kid."

The family chuckled at that before Jeff spoke up once more, asking, "Have you eaten yet?"

"I'll just go grab a sand -"

Shana was interrupted by Maddie rolling in a table laden with a steaming pot, rolls and plates, along with pitchers of tea, water and glasses. "Ah, Shana, glad to see you sweetie." Ignoring Shana's eye roll, the former nurse nodded at the Tracys.

"Dr. Axtell mentioned that Shana would be spending the night here and to make sure she ate. Since I knew she would come check on Alan before heading to her office, I hoped to catch her here. Now, baby girl, I brought an extra bowl and glass for you. There should be plenty for you to eat, even with all these strapping young men. Seafood chowder, wheat rolls and a nice fruit salad."

Maddie had been placing things on the table, even as Virgil and John began to set the dishes in their places. Once everything was ready, the woman nodded and pushed her cart back out of the room, calling "good night" as she left.

Turning to Shana, Jeff smiled. "Would you like to join us for dinner?" the Tracy father asked lightly. Seeing the rest of the family grin at Shana's discomfort, the young doctor laughed and nodded.

"Overruled, aren't I?" Shana murmured, smiling when John pulled out a chair before seating himself.

"You know, I know an emergency medical specialist who recently relocated to New Zealand," Shana mentioned as she passed a bowl of the steaming chowder down the table. "I'll make sure to give you her name and contact information before you leave. It occurs to me that having someone like that nearby could be, um, useful to your family."

Jeff nodded as he ladled more soup into a bowl and passing it down. He had been thinking of that ever since he met Shana. Gordon, being Gordon, had a completely different train of thought.

"Is she as pretty as you?" Gordon asked cheekily.

Ignoring Jeff and Scott's frowns, Shana joined the other sons' amusement as she pulled out her i-phone. "This was one of my favorite pictures from my wedding, so I copied onto my phone," Shana explained. "Emily and I went to school together, two of three of the students to complete a specialized program at Harvard. One hundred students are accepted each year, but by the end of the fourth year, the class average is four. But you graduate from medical school ready to head straight into your chosen residency. It's an incredibly intense program and you basically eat, sleep and live medicine for the four years, no breaks. In the fifteen years it has existed, its biggest graduating class was eight and two years no one completed the program."

"So, I guess that means this doctor knows her stuff," Virgil cheerfully mentioned. It was only then that he noticed John had yet to give up the phone. "Hey, Johnny – gonna let the rest of us see?"

John smiled softly before handing the phone to Virgil. "Sure – just remember: I saw her first. Dibs."

As the phone was passed around and they saw the petite blonde standing next to Shana – the woman was actually tinier than Alan's doctor, which was saying something – the remaining Tracys couldn't blame John for falling into the boys' childhood habit of laying claim to a desired treat. There was something beautiful and ethereal about the other woman. Glancing at his son, Jeff couldn't help but smile. He recognized the look on his second son's face.

He had gotten that same look the day he met Lucille Elizabeth Keith.

Nodding at Jeff, Shana wondered if she should warn her former classmate.

_Nah. It'll do Em some good to have someone swept off her feet. Look out, Emily Haas – here __come__ Hurricane John._

* * *

Sheila Nevada slipped her phone back into her pocket, smirking the whole time. Maybe she hadn't been able to get Ana a picture of Alan Tracy yet, but this latest bit of news was sure to make her cousin's day.

_Two escaped convicts endangering the patients and staff of Baystate Medical Center, one targeting the son of a billionaire and the other after a doctor on staff. The fact that the doctor is from some of the "old money" and the daughter of a dead U.S. Senator makes it even more interesting. Reporters have tried to get stuff on Dr. Pierce for ages. Most people weren't aware she was married to a cop. _

Now that was some juicy gossip for Ana to report on! Two trust fund babies being targeted by bad guys, putting innocent people at risk. Sheila wondered what kind of spin Ana would be placing on that.

The medical assistant was yanked from her musings by a hand on her arm. Sheila looked up to see a security guard holding her firmly by the arm while a second one stood on her other side. Teresa Delgado was blocking her exit, a look of fury on her face.

"Give me your phone, Sheila," the administrator said coldly. When Sheila began to baulk, Ms. Delgado snapped, "Personal cell phones, and other electronic devices, are subject to searches, just like purses or lockers."

Scrolling through the outgoing messages, the administrator shook her head. "You're fired. I will be passing on this information to the authorities. And next time, you may want to remember if you log in as someone besides yourself, don't use the log-in for the chief of medicine. Especially not when he was sitting next to me in a budget meeting."

* * *

_**A/N - Shana has been busted. But how much damage has she done? Lost her ID? Ready to send info on Alan and Shana? More next week. - CC**_


	35. Ch 34 Everyone Has an Achilles

**Left by the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - See Chapter One**_

_**WARNING - I will be headed back to the WPP, as I am sure to be getting death threats with this one. But I shall be joined by Shadowfox8 while she tries to escape her reviewers due to "Always a Hero". I am extending the sanctuary offer to Megz McGizzle for her "Death of an Innocent". (Seriously girl - you made me bawl!)**_

* * *

**Chapter 34 – Everyone Has an Achilles' Heel**

Night had settled over Baystate Medical Center, with most of the patients – and probably a couple of on-duty personnel – in various states of slumber. In maternity, a young woman struggled to give birth to her second child, knowing the pain would be forgotten once she held her newborn in her arms. Meanwhile in geriatrics, an elderly woman passed away, the pain that had racked her frail body for the last year gone as she found the peace she had been longing for since her disease had become more than she could bear without constant medication.

In the Adolescent Acute Care Unit, Abby Nahmal made a note as she flipped through some records that she had volunteered to update. The seven room ward could hold up to eighteen patients, but currently the only one was Alan Tracy. Of course, a separate room, which could, like Alan's, hold up to three patients at a time, was currently nicknamed "the dorm room" by the teen's brothers. No one could blame the Tracys, or the hospital administration, for a healthy dose of paranoia in trying to protect the kid. And it was actually "do-able" at the moment, with little disruption to other patients.

But it made for a boring shift.

That ended when a young man ran into the wing, startling both Abby and the security guard positioned at the door to Alan's room.

"Sir," Abby said firmly, "this area is restricted -"

Trevor Ballard had a look of wide-eyed panic, unusual for the calm, controlled Marine. "You don't understand. I need to talk to Gordon Tracy. No," he argued when the security guard tried to push him away, attracting the attention of the deputy sheriff who was stationed by the stairwell. Even as the deputy joined the small group, Travis raised his voice.

"I need to speak with Gordon Tracy and I need to do it now! I know he is here, please, just let me speak to him."

They were so focused on the frantic service man that no one noticed the figure slipping into Alan Tracy's hospital room…

* * *

Jeff Tracy awakened; stretching silently as he looked around Alan's darkened room. It took the father a moment to realize what had woken him.

It had taken nearly a minute for Jeff's eyes to both clear of sleep and adjust to the dim lighting of the hospital room but he became instantly awake at the sight of a shadowy figure leaning over his son.

"Get away from him," Jeff growled even as he grabbed the arm of the intruder. He was unprepared for the smaller figure to twist his arm and pin him to the bed.

"Huh?" Alan mumbled as he woke, confused. "Dad? What are you doing?"

"Obviously," Shana said quietly, "forgetting that you are still subject to checks. I couldn't sleep so I decided to check on you."

"Can't sleep in a hospital?" Alan joked quietly.

"Nah," Shana grinned. "I sleep fine here. But I am used to getting up right now and feeding twins. It took me a few minutes to figure out where they were and by then I was wide awake. And," she added thoughtfully, "it doesn't take that long to pump their breast milk for later."

"Whoa," Alan sighed as he somehow managed to yawn at the same time. "That was TMI, doc."

Jeff chuckled lightly as he stood next to Shana as she checked over Alan. "Wait until your brothers start making you an uncle. You'll really get too much information then."

"Yeah, if any of them get around to it," Alan grumbled. "You do realize I am the only one of us with a steady girlfriend, right?"

"Alan -" Jeff began uncomfortably before his youngest cut him off.

"Dad, Tin and I aren't even close to being ready for sex. In fact, we are thinking of taking the pledge to wait until we get married. Does that help your blood pressure?"

Glaring at Shana when she chuckled as she checked Alan's surgical site, Jeff continued. "Yes, Alan, it does help. Respect for yourself and your partner is important and there is nothing wrong with waiting. I don't claim your brothers are saints, but they at least waited until college -"

Jeff broke off when Alan began to giggle. "Is something funny, Alan?"

"W-wait? D-Dad – Scott, fifteen, Mary Beth Taylor, under the bleachers after his team won the championship. John, seventeen, Kelly Garretson, Kansas State Science Competition in Topeka. Virgil, sixteen, in a dressing room with Susan McGill before the school's spring musical. Gordon, his fifteenth birthday, with a nineteen year old who will remain nameless as if I said it, Dr. Pierce would know that a certain Olympian decided that was what Gordon should have for his birthday. Gordon," Alan explained to Shana, "likes women. Older, young – whatever, as long as they are not married or underage. One of his most successful physical therapists was named Gretchen and she apparently had some unique exercises that helped him build up his endurance."

At Jeff's shocked expression, Alan began to giggle again. "Dad, they really didn't think I was listening. They weren't trying to corrupt me. But don't ever try and act like my brothers were saints. And before you criticize my brothers, all I can say is I did my science paper on your space career, which included a lot of research into your personal life. And Scott was a nice, healthy eight pound baby for being born six weeks early, wasn't he?"

Shana and Alan both grinned at the blush that now rested on the Tracy father's face. Alan nudged Shana, yawning as he made himself comfortable again. "Scott was a bit of a surprise, the middle three planned – never did get a girl though – and I was either another surprise or the result of make-up sex…"

Alan froze when he realized what he had said. "Um, sorry Dad. Would you buy the meds made me say that?"

"Since you are off most of your medications," Jeff said wryly, "no, no I would not. But I will accept you have been under a lot of stress. How's that?" Alan nodded and it was Jeff's turn to grin as his youngest began to drift off to sleep.

"Oh, and just for the record, Alan," Jeff continued as Alan's eyes began to slide closed. "You were both."

Shana chuckled, shaking her head. The Tracys really were remarkable people.

* * *

Never a heavy sleeper, Scott woke to the sound of a disturbance in the hallway. Nudging Virgil as he got up, pulling on a t-shirt to go with the cotton shorts they were all sleeping in, Scott opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

Behind the oldest Tracy son, the three middle boys had all mimicked Scott's actions, dressing even as they followed him to the door.

"What's the problem?" Scott began before Gordon saw who the intruder was.

"Trevor?" the red-head asked through a yawn.

While John was the only other one there who had met Trevor, Scott and Virgil had heard enough about "the other Allen" to relax their stance. There was no way Gordon would let a threat anywhere near their Alan, so they felt at ease with the Marine's presence.

"It's Allen," Trevor gasped. "He overheard me arguing with our aunt. She's our father's older sister and she always thought he could do no wrong. She was blaming Heather and I for pursuing charges against Dad, Mom for "ruining his life" and then she started in on Allen."

"Allen's only, what?" John asked. "Five?"

"He was five this past Christmas," Trevor said. "No, she was saying that Allen was a mistake, that Mom used him to keep Dad married to her, that if Allen didn't have health problems Dad wouldn't have started drinking again. Shit! He heard it all. And now we can't find him. The doctors are still worried about his kidneys and he needs to be monitored. But the cops and security here aren't able to spare too many people, and the hospital staff is light because of the time. Please! Can you help me look?"

The Tracys looked at each other and nodded in agreement. Gordon spoke up for them. "Sure. I'll go and two of you," he motioned to his brothers, "fight it out to see which of you come with me. Between the three of us, with whoever else is on the case, will find Little Allen. Someone needs to stay with Dad for our Alan."

"Virgil," Shana said from the doorway of Alan's room. "I'm here, so you can go."

"And I'll go," Scott surprised them by speaking up. At his brothers' shocked looks, he grinned. "Like Dad says, I need to learn to delegate. But John?"

"Yeah, Scotty?" John asked as he moved towards Alan's room.

"Anything happens to the Sprout on your watch, you'll really need that hot doctor Shana wants to introduce you to."

* * *

Teresa Delgado rubbed her eyes. She had barely gotten any sleep last night and the message from the head of security about an "incident" had only made worse. Teresa was not looking forward to finding out what that was about.

The elevator was closing as the administrator had exited the staff elevator opposite it on the fourth floor. Looking down the hallway, Teresa could see Pediatrics through the small window in the secured doors. Controlled access to certain wards was a security feature that BMC adhered to closely.

Nodding at the nurse on duty, Teresa tapped a file in one hand before knocking on the door of ACCU number seven – Alan Tracy's room.

The door swung open, with Jeff Tracy standing in the opening. "Ms. Delgado? Let me guess? The check bounced?"

Teresa gave a small chuckle as the billionaire stepped back to allow her access. Seeing the lights on and Alan Tracy being moved from his bed to a wheelchair by Dr. Pierce and his brother, John, the administrator could see why the teenager wasn't still asleep.

"Up early today, Alan?" the woman grinned at the fifteen year old.

"It's such a nice day," Alan quipped as he allowed John to make him comfortable as Shana tucked a small blanket over the boy's legs. "Who wants to sleep it away?"

Shana smiled lightly. "There was a small incident and three of the Tracys went to help. Alan wants to stay up until they come back. But," she jokingly glared at Alan, "someone has to agree to rest if he gets tired."

"Oh, Lord," Teresa groaned. "What has happened now?"

"A little boy disappeared from pediatrics," John explained as he pulled his brother's chair closer to the wide windows that Alan had come to enjoy the view of the gardens.

"And Gordon has become close to the family, I guess," Alan added.

Teresa Delgado started to tap on her PDA. "OK, the hospital was locked down five minutes ago. Due to the hour, the Code Adam wouldn't be called over the PA. I have to check on a few things." Looking at Jeff, she shrugged. "I mainly came here to ask you to join me in a brief video meeting with the state's attorney. They are debating if they should be pursuing criminal charges against a Baystate Medical Employee who leaked information about Alan. She is the one who misread some notes and said that Alan had died. She didn't delete the text messages she had sent or received and several of them were leaked information. We also found a small video camera, with footage of your sons. None of Alan, I think that was what she was waiting for before turning over to her cousin. She swears she didn't know it was in her bag. But it was traced back to her cousin – a reporter named Ana Nevada."

John nodded at his father. "I've got it, Dad."

Jeff bent over, brushing a hand over Alan's head. "I won't be long, Allie."

"Go do a Scott on them, Dad," Alan grinned.

From the doorway, Jeff paused as he held the door open for Ms. Delgado. "Where do you think your oldest brother learned it from?" Jeff joked.

* * *

Allen Ballard hid in a corner as another big person moved quickly past him. The toddler wasn't sure where he was going but he wanted to get away from Auntie Louise. His daddy's sister had never been very nice to Allen and she made his mommy cry.

Mommy. Allen wanted his Mommy now. He loved his big brother and sister but Trevor had moved away and Heather was supposed to go away soon as well. Auntie Louise had said that Allen had wrecked his daddy's life and now he would wrecked Trevor's too. Allen didn't want to hurt his big brother. He just didn't get what was happening -

Suddenly, Allen saw a small cupboard that had been left open. He had taken to hiding in one like that when his daddy would come home sick. Allen hated how Daddy would yell and throw things when he came home sick.

Sliding into the tiny cabinet, Allen pulled the door shut, hearing it close but not realizing the "click" was the sound of the lock securing the cupboard. Curling into some cotton wipes, the little boy fell back asleep, barely feeling his foot hit the bottle of cleaning fluid, making its contents soak the mop heads and filling the cabinet with fumes…

* * *

Asesino and Angelo made their way in through the loading docks, the BMC shirts Angelo had stolen from a parked car a few hours earlier making them look like employees arriving for the day. A few glances were thrown their way, but with Asesino wearing a badge, no one looked too closely.

Pausing in the lobby, Angelo looked around, trying to determine the best way to get to the fourth floor where he knew Alan Tracy currently was ensconced. He turned to say something to Asesino when he saw the man holding a newspaper from a bundle that had been left by the door of the lobby.

"Boss?" Angelo whispered tentatively, visibly flinching when he saw the cold hate in the gang leader's eyes.

"Did you know about this?" Asesino growled. "Did you know my baby brother, my Carlos, was dead? That they sent him to be slaughtered?"

"N-no, Jefe, I didn't know," Angelo lied. "What happened?"

Asesino shoved the crumpled paper at his lieutenant. He didn't care now about the money. He couldn't trade his baby brother for the son of some billionaire. Thinking of the extra security mentioned in the other article – the reason he had picked up the paper in the first place – the gang leader was filled with blinding rage.

People were bending over backwards to protect some little rich kid – a white boy – but Carlos was sent to an adult prison and not even separated from the general population. His sixteen year old brother was cornered in a bathroom, raped and beaten so badly that he died, but no one had made any effort to protect Carlos. Why should Alan Tracy get to live when Carlos was dead?

* * *

Alan looked out the window, smiling at the sunrise. "Tin-Tin loves to watch the sunrise," he said softly. He looked sad for a moment. "I promised her I would watch them with her. How can I climb the bluff with Tin in this thing?"

John sat on the couch and reached over to place a gentle hand on his brother's arm. "Allie, she is tougher than she looks. And Tin will be just as happy to watch sunrises from the patio as she would be from the bluff."

Looking thoughtful, Alan nodded. "Yeah, we could always watch it from the balcony in my room."

Glaring at the other blonde Tracy, John snapped, "Not if you want to see sixteen, you won't."

Alan laughed. "Channeling Scott again, Johnny? Tin has been in my room plenty of times."

"And have any of these times been since you realized Tin-Tin was – how did you put it? – blossoming?"

Shana snorted with laughter. "Blossoming?"

"Don't you have rounds or something," Alan half-heartedly snapped.

"Nope," Shana said as she pulled an apple from her smock coat. Taking a bite, she quickly chewed before swallowing, "This was supposed to be my day off. The new monkey exhibit opened at the Children's Zoo." Looking sad, she glanced out the window before joining John on the couch.

"It was supposed to be the twins' first trip to the zoo, but with mommy as a doctor and daddy a cop, I guess it won't be the first event one or both of us miss."

"Dad didn't make it to all of our events," Alan commented. "After mom died, I guess there just wasn't that much time."

John looked thoughtful. "Al, when was the last time dad showed up for something of yours?"

"When the lab blew up."

The blunt statement made Shana chuckle but drew a look of concern from John.

"Alan, when was the last time Dad showed up for a game, an award – heck, just to pick you up from school? One you hadn't been booted from," John quickly added when Alan looked to comment something.

Alan shrugged. "I can't remember. Probably not since Kansas. But until the last year or so, one of the brothers would be there."

"And for the last year or so?"

"Penny. And of course, the small ceremony they had for the Dean's list and students accepted for Advanced Placement was the afternoon after I got hit. He didn't know about it, I wanted him to be surprised but Dad was supposed to be there for that. At least I hope he would have been."

John reached out once more and grasped Alan's hand. "We're gonna do better this time, Al. I swear we will."

Alan smiled sadly. "I'd love to see that John. But – well, we'll see."

Shana got up to supposedly begin to work on setting up breakfast for the Tracys but in reality it was her way of giving the brothers some space. She was beginning to see the Tracys, for all they were a loving family, had some wounds that it was beyond her skills to heal.

* * *

Angelo nervously followed behind Asesino, as the gang leader muttered and grumbled, seemingly carrying on a conversation with parties unknown. As they drew closer to the area where he knew the youngest Tracy was, Angelo decided to ask a question.

"Asesino, once we have the kid, how do we get out of here? He's not likely to go quietly," Angelo asked.

The gang leader turned and glared. "What makes you think the gringo bastard gets to live? Carlito died, so the rich kid dies too."

Freezing, Angelo took a step back. "Jefe – for a nice chunk of change, I thought sure, why not? But to risk our lives just to kill some kid who probably never even knew Carlos existed? That's just crazy, man!"

Pulling a knife from an inside pocket, Asesino flipped it open and waved it at Angelo. "Then go – go and make sure that idiot we dragged along got us a car. I'll waste the little rich boy and join you."

Angelo nodded, backing away, guilt at betraying the loyalty of the gang warring with the strong sense of self-preservation that had served him well lo these many years.

Fleeing down the stairs, it was clear that self-preservation was winning. As he ran out of the hospital and into the early dawn light, Angelo justified his abandonment of the man he had so blindly followed for so long as being the only way he was getting out of this alive.

Well, at least until the moment Angelo failed to see the news van that was cutting through the parking lot, trying to set up for the day. The driver of that van also failed to see Angelo. This unfortunate combination resulted in the driver's insurance rate increasing exponentially as a result of the gang member's body being caught between two equally unforgiving surfaces: the van's grill and the pavement.

* * *

Scott sighed, looking around the hospital while clutching a hastily made photocopy of the well-worn photo from Trevor Ballard's wallet, the "Little Angels Preschool" embossment still visible in the corner.

The oldest Tracy son felt a shimmer of guilt at the idea of having left his own little brother but tried to remind himself that while Alan was protected by John, a fiercely defensive doctor, a security officer and a deputy sheriff, little Allen Ballard was lost somewhere, scared and alone.

_The sooner we can find Allen, the sooner I can get back to Alan, _Scott thought as he walked down the hall near the ER. Thinking back to the day that Alan had been brought here, he shuddered as he tried to imagine how their father had felt, forced to sit here, helpless, as the medical personnel desperately tried to save his youngest brother. To be what they were, rescuers on the front line, it was incredibly frustrating to stand back, powerless when someone they loved was at risk.

Peeking into an empty waiting area, Scott tried to think of all the places he used to search for Alan in when the little boy would get it into his head to hide. Even while Scott fondly recalled his Alan at the missing child's age, the older brother was still in awe of the amazing person the fifteen year old was becoming. The fact that Alan so readily accepted his family's apologies, just needing a bit of reassurance that he was loved and needed, was amazing to Scott. He wondered if his brother would ever realize just how precious he was to Scott and the other Tracys.

"Mr. Tracy?"

Scott turned to see a security officer coming down the hall.

"We locked down the hospital but your brothers said to tell you that they and Mr. Ballard went outside to search the grounds in case that little boy got out before the lockdown."

"Corporal Ballard." When the guard looked at Scott in confusion, he shrugged. "I'm ex-military. We work hard for that rank. Trust me; you wouldn't call a doctor Mr. Smith – you call someone by the title they have -"

Scott stopped speaking abruptly; halting as his olfactory sense was overwhelmed by industrial cleaners. Having spent way too many nights in hospitals with family members, Scott knew that the heavy duty cleaning should have been long done by now. Narrowing in on a small cabinet, Scott knelt on the ground and yanked open the door, his heart nearly stopping as a small, blonde boy tumbled out, still and silent as he fell into Scott's arms.

He had found Allen Ballard.

* * *

Asesino stood outside the door, peering into a small window, waiting for just the right moment. He had pulled off the maintenance clothes they had stolen earlier, the scrubs Angelo had "borrowed" for him the day before allowing more free movement and the badge allowing him to pass through security doors.

In the hallway of the ACCU, Tim, a security guard, had been glad to pick up the extra hours. A full-time student at U-Mass, Springfield, he had been hoping that he would be given more hours to cover vacations over the summer, allowing him to head back to school in the fall with more money in the bank.

Tim had switched places with Andy Krieg, the deputy sheriff, as they had frequently through the night, feeling the change of position were keeping them more alert. The student was looking forward to the end of his shift. Andy – as the deputy had insisted he call him – had offered to take Tim out for breakfast. A criminal justice major, Tim had been anxious to use the opportunity that this crisis had brought him to actually talk to law enforcement experts. The diner Andy was taking him to was known to be as a cop hang out, so he might be able to talk to others as well.

Suddenly, the door yanked open behind Tim, and in a blur of motion he felt a hand grab him by the front of his shirt and head butt him into the wall. The last thing Tim saw as his world went black was Andy running towards him.

Andy Krieg had begun to make his way over towards Tim. He really liked the kid and thought he would make a good cop someday. Like many other officers, Andy was always on the outlook for future law enforcement officers. Mentoring was a way of life in his career field. Andy knew he wouldn't be where he was if it hadn't been for a state trooper who had lived across the street from his grandmother while Andy was in high school.

He was less than fifteen feet from Tim when the door whipped open behind the college student. Before he could reach him, Tim was thrown head first into the wall, falling unconscious to the floor. Suddenly, the man, who Andy recognized as Asesino Herrera, grabbed the deputy's arm and thrust a hand towards him. As pain radiated throughout his stomach, Andy looked down as Asesino pulled back the knife, now covered in his blood. Even as the officer collapse, the murderous thug pulled Andy's service weapon out and slipped it into the waist band off the scrubs.

The cop dropped to the ground at the gang leader's feet, even as Abby had run over, her instincts' as a nurse having put thoughts of personal safety aside. Asesino grabbed the young woman, holding her to his chest and pushing the knife at her throat. Abby wasn't sure what made her flinch worse – the blade pricking her skin or the deputy's blood trickling onto her nurse's smock.

Shana looked over at the brothers, smiling at how relaxed Alan looked this morning. Pulling out the table that had been set to the side the night before, the young doctor looked at her watch, wondering if she should call Maddie and get breakfast for the three of them or wait until the other Tracys returned.

Any thoughts of a relaxing breakfast were pushed from Shana's mind as the door whipped open. To the horror of the three occupants of the room, a man none of them immediately recognized forced his way in, a bloody knife at the throat of the terrified nurse.

Asesino's eyes went to the blonde teenager in a wheelchair by the window. A blanket was tenderly tucked around boy's legs and even with signs of fading injuries it was obvious that the fifteen year old was being lovingly cared for. Thinking of his own little brother, savagely murdered while this kid was receiving TLC from a doting family, the gang leader felt cold fury run through his body. Throwing the nurse into the room, knocking down a blonde man who had stood up and moved closer to the door when they had entered, Asesino pointed the knife at Alan Tracy.

"You get to live, huh? Cops make all kinds of efforts to find you, the doctors bend over ass backwards to save you? What makes your life more important that Carlito's? What makes you more important than my baby brother? He's dead. No cops riding to the rescue, no doctors saving him. He dies, raped and beaten by men who hated him cause he wasn't white. Bet they would have you as their poster child – blonde hair, blue eyes, and all-American boy. No. If, Carlos is dead, you don't get to live."

* * *

_**A/N - Asesino freaks out and has chosen to target Alan. Why oh why did that have to happen?**_

**_Alan - Because you are a sick, twisted woman._**

**_CC (Blushes) - Gee, thanks._**

**_Alan (throws up his arms) - I give up! How can you be so pleased by that?_**

**_Jean - It's normal for fan fic writers, Alan. Accept it._**

**_Scott (grins) - Jean, you're back. Um, hi._**

**_Alan - Oh, no. Scott, you can not be flirting with Jean. (whispers) - She's one of THEM._**

**_Scott (nudging his brother before walking Jean over to the sofa) - Learn the lesson, Alan. Sometimes it is easier to catch a fly with honey than to swat them._**

**_CC (laughs)- Ah, Scott. See - I told John._**

**_John - You talking about me again, CC?_**

**_CC (pulling the two blonde Tracys to sit down as she sets out cookies and lemonade) - Yes, John. I was hoping I made you happy with the last couple of chapters._**

**_Alan - Lady, you have an armed lunatic in my room. And that little kid, the mini-me, is not in good shape either. Is this a hint for me._**

**_CC - No, of course not Alan. (takes a sip of lemonade) I never hurt Allen as bad as you._**

**_Jean (snickers) - She has a point, boys._**

**_CC - Anyhow, John I am introducing Emily again...(loud pounding and muffled screams can be heard) Um, any how - Emily will be back. And you get to try and protect Alan. This is a good thing, right?_**

**_John (shrugs as he bites into the cookie, smiling as the chocolate chip goes down smoothly) - Yeah, I guess so._**

**_Jean - Are you doing the same for Scott? (glares at CC)_**

**_CC - Not yet, Jean. You can keep playing with Malibu Ken, um, I mean, Scott. I'm just giving John another chance with Emily._**

**_A loud pounding can be heard again._**

**_Alan (looks around) - Um, where is Sam1?_**

**_Jean smiles at CC, handing her a key._**

**_CC - Oh, she's around. (mutters) Lock me in a closet, will ya?_**

**_Jean (laughing) - Oh, I so warned her. Do not tick you off._**

**_CC (shrugs) - We are evil twins. Huh. With you around, should that be evil triplets?_**

**_Alan - Nah, she isn't as bad as you two._**

**_Scott - Read Jean's Supernatural stories. What she does to Sam - wow._**

**_CC - Yep. Enjoy the ride. I am close to hitting my stride and well...More soon. Promise._**

**_Alan - You could take the holiday weekend off, ya know?_**

**_CC - And waste all that writing time? Never. So sit down, munch a few cookies and remember I always repair toys that I break. G'nite!_**


	36. Chapter 35 An Eye for an Eye

**Left by the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**

* * *

**_

Disclaimer - See Chapter One

**Chapter thirty five – An Eye for an Eye**

Alan struggled with the wheelchair, his fight or flight instinct pushing him towards the prior as they usually had. Especially with one of his brothers in danger, Alan refused to stand back.

OK, sit back.

"So eager to die, little boy?" Asesino growled.

"Leave my brother alone!" John snarled, his usually gentle features set in fury. "He's just a kid, he never hurt anyone!"

"My brother was just a kid, also!" Asesino screamed. "What did he do to deserve his fate?"

"Well," Shana broke in. "He was in jail for murder. He may not have deserved how he died, but your brother was guilty of capital murder."

"_Accused_," Asesino corrected. "Carlos had been accused of murder. He never got a trial."

"Hey," John snapped, trying to regain his footing from beneath the nurse, the young woman's shock making her a dead weight. "The cops must have had good reasons for arresting him -"

"Yeah, cause he was Latino!" the gang leader screamed.

"Oh cut that racism crap out!" Shana snapped. "Crime is crime. Yes, there are horrible cases of racism. But your brother was arrested after police officers witnessed him fleeing the scene. Three witnesses had already identified your brother as the shooter. He could be white, black or pink with purple polka dots. But he was arrested because he committed the crime. Carlos was wounded when the police tried to apprehend him. He was brought here and given medical treatment."

"Were you in the ER?" Asesino asked, pointing the knife in the young doctor's direction.

"No, I wasn't," Shana admitted. "But as an emergency medical specialist here, I review all the cases. I didn't agree with the decision of releasing Carlos Herrera without making sure there was room in the local juvenile facility. In the future, I have made it clear that we will house any minors here at Baystate Medical Center until acceptable arrangements can be made."

"So you are in charge of emergencies here?" Asesino asked, stepping closer to Shana.

"Since Dr. Axtell became Chief of Medicine, yes, I have been given most of the oversight of the ER. The board is planning on making it official soon," Shana admitted.

"Did you help to save pretty boy's life?" the gang leader asked, gesturing his knife towards Alan.

"I had a hand in it."

Herrera laughed coldly. "That's not what I heard. On the vid, they talked about a young doctor, one _who worked desperately to_ _save the life of an innocent boy. _That would be you, right, chica?"

Shana shrugged, infuriating the gang leader.

"I'm talking to you," Asesino snapped. "You will show me some respect."

"Respect," Shana said coolly, "is earned. You have not earned mine. You are a murderer, a drug dealer and someone who has escaped justice far too long. Do you think I am respecting you now? That any of us are? You are scaring the hell out of us but you are not gaining respect or admiration."

"Then I'll take fear," Asesino shrugged. The gang leader looked thoughtful. "So you are telling me that you would have usually been in the ER. When my brother was brought in, why were you not there to fight for Carlito? What was more important than my brother?"

Shana thought carefully, paling slightly as she turned slightly to John. The second Tracy son was frequently teased for being "the smart one" but he was very insightful. Thinking of that day in the ER when Dr. Krutz died, John remembered Shana's conversation with her husband after she had declared the other doctor dead. They both knew in that instant where Shana had been when Carlos Herrera had treated in the emergency room. John didn't even have to mouth _"penicillin" _for Shana to recall where she had been.

Right here – saving Alan.

* * *

Trevor Ballard looked back and saw Gordon Tracy and his brother – Virgil? – split up and begin a very organized grid search pattern in the employee parking lot. Gordon had stated that if Allen had gotten out of the hospital, he would most likely use that exit as it was one of the few left unlocked between 2100 and 0600 hours. Pausing for a moment, Trevor wondered if both brothers had been military. He knew Gordon had been, but all of the Tracys were handling this as if they were used to working on search and rescue teams.

Shaking his head, the Marine ignored that thought. He was letting his imagination run rampant.

Refocusing his attention, Trevor finished up searching the shrubbery and was about to join the brothers in the parking lot when a figure ran past him, knocking him to the ground and fleeing into the lot. Trevor raised his eyes, yelling to the man as he was halfway across the entrance path to the parking area. But it was too late, as a large news van struck the man, felling him with a sickening crunch.

Gordon and Virgil looked up, racing back over to kneel next to the fallen man. When Virgil raised his head, he solemnly said, "Dead on impact. Neck broken and skull cracked."

"Not to mention his left leg, arm and most of his rib cage," Gordon added.

"Why am I not surprised to see a Tracy here?"

The new voice took all three men by surprise. Turning from the dead body on the ground, Gordon was the about to say something to Detective Matthews when Nate began to fluently curse.

When Virgil simply raised an eyebrow, the detective explained. "That's Angelo Ramirez, Asesino Herrera's top lieutenant. The word on the street was that he was the one who organized Herrera's prison bus escape. God knows, the body count matches his style. If he's here, Herrera can't be far behind."

Before any of the others could say anything, Nate paled. "Shay," he whispered, fear clearly in his eyes. As he turned to head into the hospital, a noise near the truck startled them all.

The driver of the news van, forgotten by everyone in the moment, was swaying precariously inches from his vehicle. Most alarming though was his gray face. Before anyone could say a word, the driver clutched his left arm, collapsing to his knees.

Gordon's quick reflexes saved the man from falling any further. With his brother's help, he laid the man flat, loosening the driver's shirt as Virgil began a quick exam.

"Massive coronary," Virgil murmured, starting CPR as Gordon prepared to do the compressions.

Gordon looked at Detective Matthews. "Shana is in Alan's room. Get up there fast. It's just Dad and John with them."

Running into the hospital, checking his weapon as he ran, Nate yelled over his shoulder to Trevor who had accompanied him. "Tell someone that there is a medical emergency in staff parking lot C." Nate had already hit the stairwell door as he said the words, vanishing up the winding stairs.

Grabbing a passing nurse, Trevor relayed the message. He wasn't sure what was going on, but if anything happened to Alan Tracy because his brothers were helping Trevor look for his little brother, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. Swearing he would just check on the youngest Tracy before resuming his search for his Allen, Trevor began to race up the stairs himself, silently praying that his mother had been right and angels were watching over them.

They could use a few.

* * *

Shana and John continued to exchange looks, fearful of what Herrera would do if he found out why Shana hadn't been in the Emergency Department at the time of his brother's admission.

"What?" Asesino screamed. "You know where you were when Carlos was being sent to Hell. What was so f'ing important? What was more important than my brother's life?"

"O-one of my patients had been given the wrong medication and had an allergic reaction," Shana said with only the slightest tremor to her voice. "When the intern treating your brother needed the discharge paperwork signed he would have been told I wasn't available. He had another resident sign it. _Something else she would have gotten in trouble for," _Shana muttered angrily, remembering finding the paperwork Krutz had signed. It had always been informal policy for the hospital to make sure a minor was being discharged in an appropriate manner. But the late, unlamented Ginny Krutz had simply signed the form without checking to see where the patient was headed. On several occasions, Shana could recall calling around to have a juvenile safely placed, whether it was a detention center or a foster home.

"So who was this doctor who couldn't be bothered with my brother?" Asesino asked.

"You killed her already," Shana snapped back.

The gang leader merely nodded. He knew he hadn't liked that bitch.

"Fine," John said coldly. "The doctor who released your brother to an adult prison is dead – by your own hand no less. Now leave my little brother alone."

Asesino merely stared at Alan until the teenager knew how the prey of a cobra must feel. "Why?" the man snarled. "No one would have let him be tossed out like so much garbage. Best of care, top notch security, nothing but the best for the son of Jeff Tracy. But for my brother? Stitch him up and toss him out with the trash. Why should your brother live when Carlos is dead?"

Knife extended, a congealing drop of blood falling from the blade onto the man's hand mesmerized Alan, making him unable to move.

Taking a chance while the gang leader's focus was on Alan – but desperate to stop him before Asesino could actually reach the teenager - John barreled into the man. They were matching in height, but where Asesino was bulkier; John was driven by a desperate fear. He was _not _going to let anyone else hurt Alan.

Shana had moved closer to Alan, hoping to protect her patient if need be. She wasn't sure if she could stop him, but damn it – she would do whatever she could.

The knife raised and fell, a cry of pain was heard and then Abby, all but forgotten in the on-going drama, screamed…

* * *

Scott Tracy picked up the tiny burden in his arms, recalling how small and fragile _his _Alan had been the day he had pulled his baby brother from the avalanche that had killed their mother. Like the youngest Tracy, the youngest Ballard had a blue tinge around his lips and skin that seemed far to pale to belong to a living person.

Looking up, Scott spotted the door marked Trauma Room Three, the man didn't realize that it was in this very room that Shana and the rest of the Trauma Team had fought so hard to save his brother. All he knew was that most Trauma Rooms are kept fully stocked and ready for the next emergency at a moments notice.

Well, here was a moment.

"Sir," a nurse said quietly. When Scott placed Allen on the treatment table and began to examine him, she increased her volume. "Sir, you can't be in here. We'll take care of the little boy -"

"Yeah," Scott grumbled. "You've taken real good care of him so far. Now either help me start his treatment or get the hell out of my way. This kid needs oxygen and he needs it now." Bending down over the tot, Scott began to give several quick puffs, trying to get some air into the boy in order to improve his faint and shaky pulse.

The nurse looked indignantly at Scott but before she could say anything, hands were placing an oxygen mask over Allen's face.

Allison Fox gave a small nod and a smile to Scott as she began to attach the EKG leads to the tiny body in front of her. "Joyce," she said calmly. "Please run up to ACCU. If Abby can't wait to leave, can you cover for her until I get there? And let Mr. Tracy's family know where he is."

"Someone needs to find Trevor Ballard as well," Scott said as he picked up a small penlight and checked Allen's reaction.

"I'll let security know the child has been located," Joyce said coolly.

"Do that," Scott snapped. "And someone might want to make sure cabinets containing chemicals are kept locked so children can't crawl in them."

"I'm sure," Joyce sniped, "that no one expected a little boy to come down here at five in the morning and crawl inside a storage cabinet."

Before Scott could let loose the verbal barrage he was dying to, Allison calmly responded.

"Children rarely do the expected, Joyce," the older nurse said with a maternal smile. "My mother always called us chaos theory personified. She was a school teacher for forty years – she would know. And after raising five sons, I agree."

Ignoring Joyce, who took the hint and left the treatment room, Scott pulled out a warm blanket and covered the little boy with it. "He needs some fluids," Scott murmured.

Scott was almost surprised when the nurse began to hang a bag and prepped the tiny hand for the needle. Glancing up at him as she placed the needle into Allen's hand, Allison smiled.

"Shana said if any of your family wanted to help with your brother to shut up and listen. I'm assuming that extends to this little boy as well."

Scott shook his head and gave a small smile as he brushed Allen's blonde hair back. "Mom always said God watches over the babies."

Oh, He does," Allison smiled back once more as she adjusted the flow on the saline drip. "But sometimes He has angels among us to help."

* * *

Jeff Tracy set his jaw firmly. "What do you mean you think the case is unwinnable?"

The Massachusetts' State Attorney tried not to flinch under the cold gaze of a man most considered extremely intimidating. Silently thanking fate that Jeff Tracy had not gone into law, the man tried to remain stalwart.

"Mr. Tracy, with all due respect, the case involving Ms. Nevada is shaky at best. There was no obvious malicious intent. We can't find any proof she was paid off. As far as we can tell, her story about just trying to help her cousin look good so she can get a job in a larger market is true. Ana Nevada admitted to asking her cousin for info because she is interviewing for a position with a Miami area satellite news station."

"And you bought that?" Teresa Delgado snapped. "I told you – Sheila Nevada never did anything in the year she was here that didn't serve Sheila Nevada."

"Unfortunately, the evidence to take to a jury just isn't there," the attorney said firmly. "I do advise you to take this to a civil court, as the burden of proof is less stringent there. I believe you that Sheila Nevada was guilty of willful intent in releasing information on Alan Tracy. And had she succeeded in getting out the information on Dr. Pierce, she definitely could have endangered the young woman's life. But I have advised both Nevadas that if that detail makes the news I will make it my life's work to see them in prison until they are old and grey. Beyond that – this case is simply unwinnable in criminal courts."

As the screen faded to black, Jeff sighed even as the hospital administrator began to apologize. Cutting her off, the Tracy father raised his hand. "Ms. Delgado, I am a firm believer in karma. That young woman will get what is coming to her."

"So," Teresa questioned, "you don't want to join us in the civil suit?"

"Are you joking?" Jeff exclaimed. "I'll loan you Jake Getty for the trial. Nail her to the wall! Make sure that everyone knows just what she did. Sheila Nevada may not go to jail but there is no way she should be rewarded for her bad behavior. Someone has to show people that what she did wasn't right and that everyone should be held to the standards of basic decency."

With every intent of heading back to Alan's room immediately, Jeff's attention was drawn to a blinking light directly outside of the administrator's office door.

"What the…" Jeff's voice held a tinge of confusion as Ms. Delgado came up behind him.

"Oh, from ten at night until six in the morning, we use these lights for certain announcements. Only if we need to evacuate for something like a fire is the PA system used. All overnight staff members are required to have either pagers or walkie-talkies at all time. Keeps the place quieter and allows more rest for the patients."

Thinking of not only the births of his five sons but the long hospital stay for Gordon after his son's injuries in the hydro-foil crash, Jeff could remember drifting off to sleep only to wake to pages. They could of really have used a system like that –

Teresa Delgado looked a bit sad. "Shana suggested it a few years ago. It's been very successful and several other hospitals have expressed interest. She remembered how the pages used to wake her when she was a patient here and found it bothered her just as much as an intern. Dr. Axtell suspects the latter was because of her time here as a patient."

"What is that one for?" Jeff asked as a violet light blinked repeatedly.

"Um, Medical Emergency," the administrator said, pulling out her PDA. "According to the hospital alert system, it is in Staff Parking Lot C, just off the ER. It's one of the few unlocked overnight entry and exit points. I hope no one on the staff is hurt badly."

Nodding to Jeff, the woman closed the door to her office, wanting to get her day started.

Standing there for a moment, Jeff considered simply heading back to Alan's room but decided to double check on Staff Parking Lot C.

After all, he had only two out of five sons that he wasn't sure were not involved so it was always better to play safe than sorry.

* * *

Asesino smiled in triumph at the new blood spill, the blade having sliced into the blonde man's right arm. From behind Shana, Alan yelled out his brother's name.

"JOHN!"

John Tracy heard Alan's panicked cry but didn't look over at him. Biting back the pain, he reached up and sharply twisted Asesino's wrist, forcing the gang leader to drop the knife. Grabbing the weapon in his left hand, he smirked at the Latino.

"Ambidextrous. Bet you didn't think of that, jerk?"

Reaching behind his back with his still sore hand, Asesino smirked in return as he pointed the gun he stole from the deputy sheriff at John. "Two weapons. Bet you didn't think of that. I prefer to kill with a blade. So much more – personal. But," he snapped as he turned slightly, shifting his aim back towards Alan, "I'll make an exception if it means that little bastard is as dead as mi hermano."

Taking half a step closer to Alan, the gang leader gestured with his stolen gun. "OK, lady. You don't need to die today. Get away from the boy so I can kill him."

"No," Shana said shakily. "No. I won't let you kill an innocent boy."

"My brother was innocent!" Asesino screamed.

"We have a different definition of innocent, then, don't we?"

Shana bit her lip to keep from crying out in relief at the sight of her husband in the doorway, his service weapon pointed at Asesino.

The gang leader moved slightly but still kept his target zone in the direction of Shana and Alan. "The pig who kept me from my brother. I never even got to say goodbye to my baby brother because of you. Hey, Juan," he smirked towards John as he tried to get up, "do you wanna say bye to your brother?"

John glared at Asesino, furious that this creep was threatening his brother. "I swear to God, you touch my brother and there will be no place on this planet you can hide from my family."

"You honestly think I wanna live, blondie?" Asesino screamed with the pain in his voice obvious. "Read the papers yet? My mother suffered a massive heart attack when the cops told her about my baby brother. My father was killed by the cops thirteen years ago. And Carlito was raped and murdered in prison, a prison they had no business putting a sixteen year old in. Why would I wanna live?"

Turning slightly, Asesino saw Shana trying to push Alan back slightly, hoping to get the teen behind the sofa. Grabbing her arm, he pushed the gun up under her chin.

Nathan yelled, "Shay!" and took a step further into the room, desperate to save his wife.

"Stupid bitch! What do you think you are -" Asesino trailed off, looking at Shana's face, which she had set in stone, trying not to show any fear. His eyes dropped to the badge clipped to the front of Shana's lab coat.

"Shana Pierce, MD, Emergency Medicine Specialist. Now, why would little piggy call you something like Shay? Sound – intimate." He reached up and grabbed a chain from under her shirt, yanking up an old-fashioned gold locket and snapping it open.

Trying not to show a reaction, Nathan froze as the locket came open and unfolded into four parts. He remembered Shana finding the locket with an old diary of her mother's as they finished packing up personal effects from her parent's house. The late Dr. Adams-Pierce had found the locket in a small antique shop while vacationing with her family, placing a picture of her own wedding in one slot and one of Shana as a baby in another. She had intended to put one from Shana's wedding day in the third place and give it to her daughter the day Shana had her own child, so that her daughter could place her baby's picture in it. Shana had been ready to dump the locket back into the box when her husband grabbed it and began digging through pictures, settling for one from the wedding day. A month later, as Shana smiled happily, he had put the locket around his wife's neck, a picture of their newborn sons in the last slot, fulfilling her late mother's wish. As far as Nathan knew, she hadn't removed it since.

"Cop and a doctor? How romantic. Maybe you deserve a bullet, too, hey lady?" Grabbing Shana's arm again, Asesino yanked her closer until her back was against his chest and the gun remained pointed towards her head.

"Put the gun down," Asesino ordered Nate. "Or you become a single parent real fast. NOW!" he screamed when the detective held fast.

As Shana bit her lip to keep silent when the barrel cut the flesh under her chin, Nathan found his resolve wavering. When a small trickle of blood ran down her throat, he crumbled.

"OK," Detective Matthews breathed. Setting his weapon on the ground, he began to move forward when Asesino spoke.

"Stop." When Nathan froze, the gang leader gestured with his head towards the detective's gun. "Kick it away. No," he snapped. "Not into the room. Seems we got heroes in here and I don't wanna give any more ideas."

Nate kicked the gun closer to the door and took another step towards his wife. "OK, fine. You want some blood? Someone to pay for your brother's death? Here I am. Now leave Shana and Alan alone."

With a sick smile, Asesino gave a stage whisper. "Why should I? Innocent blood is much sweeter." Pulling the gun away from Shana's chin, he pointed it right at Alan.

The sound of gun fire ripped through the quiet that should be the norm for a hospital at dawn…

* * *

**THE END**

**Just kidding. Got more coming, should be a quick chapter on the weekend, more next week - and I mean early. And who thnks Sam1 can come out of the closet? Who thinks she should stay there? And who thinks she should stay there but have John join here. After all - she has a special scene to wrte for me for our next Crimsam story.**

**Laters! CC**


	37. Ch 36 Is It Dangerous?

**Left By The Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - See Chapter One**_

**_This chapter is a bit short, but I put in a lot of hours last week. The next chapter is almost done and should be posted in a couple of days. _**

**_But if this is a bit short, can I recommend "Liar" by Gotyu, a writer new to Thunderbirds but who has learned Alan whumping real fast._**

* * *

**Chapter 36 - Is It Dangerous?**

Jeff Tracy stopped when he saw all the excitement outside but continued forward, his father's instinct running on overtime with the knowledge that at least one of his sons was involved. Call it instinct, logic or past history, he knew one of his sons was involved.

"Sir," a security guard raised an arm, blocking his path. Jeff eyed the man in frustration before taking a step back. It would probably be easier to wait for a minute but just in case, Jeff began to check out ways to get around the man. If need be, he could take the guy – easily.

"Dad."

Turning slightly, Jeff sighed in relief at the sight of Gordon and Virgil slipping in as a team of medics pushed through, a man strapped to a gurney.

"Massive MI," Gordon explained as Virgil was too busy watching the medics push the patient down the hall. Sighing in exasperation, Gordon nudged his brother. "Yo – Virg the Surg. They got it. Let's check with security to see if they've found Allen yet."

Virgil absently nodded while Gordon led them to a security post.

"Excuse me," Gordon said in his rarely used "polite" tone. When the security guard looked up, the redhead gave the trademark "Tracy smile", which, they had discovered over the years, could be used with devastating effectiveness.

"We had been helping to look for a missing boy when we, well, we got sidetracked," Gordon joked lightly as he gestured to where the gurney with the heart attack victim was disappearing into a treatment room.

The guard looked over at a computer screen and nodded. "Was that the boy from pediatrics?"

"Allen Ballard," Virgil confirmed.

"Yes, he's been found," the guard assured him.

The Tracys all breathed a sigh of relief. "Alright," Jeff said, turning to head towards the elevators. "Let's head back to your brothers. I've been on edge since I woke up. I'll feel better when we are all together."

Walking past the treatment rooms, Jeff felt a small shiver run down his spine at the sign for treatment room three. He could still taste the terror that had overwhelmed him when the medical staff had wheeled his youngest son through those doors and the helplessness he had felt at being unable to do anything. Jeff had to remind himself that Alan had survived and was safe in his room, John keeping him company.

As the elevator doors closed, Virgil suddenly blurted out, "Hey, where's Scott?"

* * *

Allison Fox smiled down at the little boy on the gurney. He reminded her so much of her youngest son.

"That's a nice smile," Scott said softly. "What's it for?"

"Oh," Allison laughed, "I was just remembering when my son, Brady, was this age. He's my baby but don't try to remind him of that. At fifteen he thinks he is way too cool for that particular moniker."

"Tell me about it," Scott grinned as he checked Allen's pulse again. "My kid brother is the same way."

"Alan, um, your Alan is a nice kid," Allison smiled as she checked the IV. "Your family must be relieved at how well he is coming along."

"And how is Allen's -" Scott stopped and sighed. "You know, if anyone listened to us they would think we were nuts. Alan is Alan but Allen is Allen not Alan."

"I'm a parent," Allison said bluntly. "My children have considered me nuts since the first one hit puberty." Eyeing Scott she blurted out, "What the heck is wrong with you? You keep looking at the clock and the door. Are you expecting trouble?"

"I'm the oldest of five," Scott grumbled. "I'm always expecting trouble."

"Well, once Joyce lets security know Allen's brother that this baby is OK, you can get back to your Alan."

Scott nodded then got defensive as a man entered the room. But he backed down when he saw Allison smiled at the newcomer.

"Doctor Hung," Allison greeted cheerfully. "It's about time."

The young Asian doctor sighed. "Give me a break, Allison. I was the only doctor in the ER from three until five and just as Dr. Houle came in, there was a massive heart attack in the staff parking lot."

"Who was it?" Allison asked, concerned.

"Oh, it wasn't anyone on staff," Dr Hung said as he checked over the tiny patient. "It was some member of the media. They are still working on him."

Having stepped back to let Dr. Hung work, Scott shrugged. He tried to pull up concern and remember that, member of the media or not, it was a human being. But after what the fourth estate tended to do to his family, it wasn't easy.

* * *

Trevor Ballard had been less than a minute behind the police detective – he still didn't know the man's name – but had been shocked by what he saw when he arrived.

The first thing the Marine had seen as he approached the landing was a foot propping the stairwell open. Trevor had been thinking neither one of them would be able to enter. He recalled the nurse in pediatric telling him that all juvenile units had secure stairwells. You could leave by them but unless you had a ID that allowed access to that ward, you could not re-enter by the door.

Silently slipping into the hallway, Trevor checked the fallen man. Seeing the goose egg on the security officer's temple, he was surprised when he began to stir.

"Shhh," Trevor whispered. "Um, Tim?" he said after reading the young man's ID badge. "Need you to be quiet. There may be a problem." _Which, _Trevor thought, _could be the understatement of the millennia. _

Seeing the uniformed deputy crumpled on the floor, blood oozing from a belly wound, Trevor grabbed a uniform shirt from the stairwell and pressed it to the wound. Motioning to Tim, Trevor mouthed, _"Keep the pressure on."_

With the two wounded men taken care of – well, one caring for the other – Trevor began to move towards Alan Tracy's room. He could hear raised voices and saw the police detective in the open doorway.

"_Cop and a doctor? How romantic. Maybe you deserve a bullet, too, hey lady?"_ There was silence for a moment before the angry voice continued_. "Put the gun down, or you become a single parent real fast. NOW!" _

"_OK,"_ Trevor heard the cop say.

"_Stop_," the unknown voice continued. _"Kick it away. No, not into the room. Seems we got heroes in here and I don't wanna give any more ideas." _

Then Trevor heard the policeman again. _"OK, fine. You want some blood? Someone to pay for your brother's death? Here I am. Now leave Shana and Alan alone."_

Trevor had crawled towards the door, stealth his greatest aid, stretching his fingers out and laying hand on the dropped police detective's gun when he heard the cruel voice once more.

"_Why should I? Innocent blood is much sweeter." _

* * *

"Dad," Gordon started as he cracked his knuckles, a nervous habit he had given up years ago. "I got a bad feeling. I don't think we should have left Alan."

Jeff nodded. He wasn't sure when the feeling began for him as well, but he suspected his fourth son was right. His parental warning sense was screaming at full volume, and it was all he could do to push down the sense of panic that was threatening to overwhelm him.

Virgil had begun to hum, his own nervous tick kicking in. He had never been claustrophobic – John was the only one with "special" issues – but ever since the doors of the elevator had closed, the middle Tracy son had felt a sense of impending doom right out of a movie thriller.

"We should have taken the stairs again," Virgil grumbled.

"The stairwell to the wards for Pediatrics and Adolescents are locked. You need an ID badge that authorizes access to that ward to get in there," Jeff said calmly.

The run up the stairs when Alan had his allergic reaction flashed through Virgil's mind, with Shana flashing a badge and a shrill "beep" sounding as she yanked open the door, the Tracys following hot on her heels.

After what seemed like a lifetime, the elevator finally chimed on the desired floor and the doors slid open. Jeff stepped out of the elevator car, his sons close on his heels, only for them all to freeze when the sound of gun fire ripped through the silence…

* * *

_**CC - Yes, short but brings everyone into the loop. Well, Scott still doesn't know. And what he doesn't know -**_

**_Scott - I'll find out eventually._**

**_Alan - He always does, you know._**

**_Jean (beams at Scott) - He always does._**

**_CC - Jean, stop drooling._**

**_Jean (frowns) He hasn't met Kate yet. I can drool._**

**_CC (sighs) - Speaking of drool, where is Sam1? And the source of her drool, John?_**

**_Scott - Sam1 wanted to double check John's arm. She yelled through the door that she needed to check and make sure it was alright._**

**_CC - Let me get this straight - You put your brother, who is claustraphobic, in a closet so that a fan fic writer can check his non-existant wound?_**

**_Alan - John hasn't met Emily yet. It will be good for him to hang out with someone who wants to drool over him._**

**_Scott - Change of subject - Who got shot?_**

**_CC - You honestly expect me to answer that?_**

**_Alan - It was worth a shot._**

**_Jean (groans) - OK, Alan - no more hanging out with Gordon._**

**_CC - Come on, let's grab a bite to eat. Made some gluten free treats. And I will answer the question of "Who Shot JR" by Tuesday._**

**_Alan - Who's JR?_**

**_Jean (laughing) - CC, you are showing your age._**

**_CC - Jean, I wrote you into these convos, I can write you out. Now, if you want these to continue in my next multi-chapter story..._**

**_Jean - I'll behave, I'll behave._**

**_CC - At a girl. Now you update your work, I'll get to work on more of this. And what did you think of my outline for the next story?_**

**_Jean - Awesome. Just one question for Scott._**

**_Scott - Sure, what is it?_**

**_Jean - Your dad has good major medical insurance for the family, right?_**

**_Alan and Scott turn pale as Jean and CC raise their glasses in a toast. _**

**_CC - Smile boys - The ride ain't over yet._**


	38. Ch 37 Dangerous is an Understatement

**Left By the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - See Chapter One.**_

**__****Getting close to the end? Or am I gonna make things worse?**

* * *

**Chapter 37 - Dangerous is an Understatement**

Barry Shaheen watched from behind a tree as events had unfolded in the parking lot. He had been checking for unlocked cars – why break a window if you don't have to? – when he spotted two of Alan Tracy's brothers run into the parking lot. From his hiding place under an SUV, Barry just barely missed being spotted by Virgil Tracy at the sound of brakes and a loud thump.

Peering over the hood of a car, Barry watched as the brothers first examined someone who had apparently been hit by a news van that had pulled into the parking lot. In the early morning breeze, he could hear the detective who had arrested him talking to the brothers and another man, identifying Angelo as the victim. Barry cursed his luck. Not only would there be no payout with the cop there to block any kidnapping, but Asesino was sure to be nailed up in the hospital. There went his protector and possible source of opportunities.

When the driver of the news van collapsed, with the Tracys working on him even as the other two men raced back into the Medical Center, Barry took advantage of the distraction to head across a second parking lot. From that one, he would be just minutes from the highway and the Mass Turnpike. Barry could keep silent and to the side of the road until he reached a Truck Stop. From there he could hitch a ride. Florida still sounded good. Angelo had given him the supplies but Barry was smart enough to dump the guns, all of which could be tied to the bus crash and the consequent murders. The former Wharton's student wished that the gang members had taken them with them, but while the knife could be hidden, the guns would have been too obvious.

_I am so out of here, _Barry thought as he headed east into the rising sun and on the road to freedom. _It's time for me to get everything I deserve._

* * *

John looked up at Asesino, wondering if the double gun shots had deafened him. The gang leader's lips were moving, but no sound was coming out. Shaking his head briefly, John refocused on Asesino and realized there was something different about him.

It was probably the bullet hole in the middle of his forehead.

Luckily, John couldn't see the back of the man's head. Then again, there really wasn't much to look at anymore.

As Asesino dropped lifelessly to the ground, John turned towards the door. Nate blocked his view for a moment as he moved into the room, grabbing his wife and pulling her into his arms. Shana pulled in several deep breaths, forcing her shakiness down as she looked around the room.

"Is – is everyone alright?" Shana asked, intentionally ignoring Asesino's dead body at her feet. Shrugging out of her lab coat, Shana pulled her ID badge off before tossing the blood splattered garment into the trash.

Nathan turned around, staring wide-eyed at the sight of Trevor Ballard holding the service weapon the detective had dropped minutes earlier. The Marine gave a small nod and turned the gun around, securing the safety as he handed it back to Nathan, who nodded back and slipped the pistol into his holster while keeping one hand on Shana.

"Alan?" John said, turning quickly as he remembered there were TWO gunshots that had blasted through the air, Asesino having gotten a shot off at the same time as Trevor. The blonde's eyes went wide at the sight of his youngest brother lying on the ground next to his overturned wheelchair…

* * *

Joyce White had been standing next to the nurses' station, her mind having shut off in shock. There was blood smeared on the floor and a security guard pressing a bloody garment to the stomach of a deputy sheriff who had begun to wake, moaning in pain.

Fairly new to nursing, Joyce had only been at Baystate for a few weeks. Already she had determined that working in a hospital – especially as the low man on the totem pole, working the graveyard shift – was not what she wanted. The shortages of nurses in this region had given her a variety of choice and Joyce already had several responses to her resume mailings for a medical office position.

Still dazed, Joyce started when she heard the elevator bell signal an arrival. Diving behind the counter of the nurses' station, Joyce defended her actions – as well as her inaction – with the logic that if whoever was responsible for the attack on the lawmen was coming back, there was nothing she could do about it beyond being the next victim. Hidden where she was, Joyce never saw the Tracys disembark from the elevator. But when she heard the sound of gunfire, the nurse crouched closer to the floor, silently praying no one would look for her there.

* * *

Jeff thought his heart would burst through his chest; the pounding was so hard and desperate. The sound of gunfire tore through him as if the bullet had pierced his body. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jeff noted the deputy on the floor but could also see the person attending to him. First things would come first – he had to make sure his sons were alright.

Running up to Alan's door, Jeff grabbed the man in the doorway. Only Gordon pulling him back stopped the Tracy father from further attack.

"Dad! Dad, this is Trevor Ballard – I told you about him," Gordon explained.

Cocking his head, Jeff took a better look at the younger man and recognized him from that morning in the cafe when he had first met "Allen" and his brother. Jeff relaxed a bit before looking into the room, Jeff tried to control his breathing. Seeing John on the ground, clutching a bloody arm, and Alan lying still next to his overturned wheelchair, Jeff cried out as he came further into the room.

Virgil immediately kneeled next to John, pulling back his hand so that he could examine the blonde's arm. "Not too bad," he muttered. "Just a few stitches."

Grimacing as Virgil probed his injury, John motioned with his head towards Alan. Directing his question to Shana, who had knelt down by the teenager, he asked, "How bad is it?"

Jeff gently moved his youngest son while Gordon was checking over the nurse lying still behind him. When the father looked at Shana, she raised her eyebrows in confusion.

"He's not hurt," Shana muttered as she double checked her findings.

"Wanna bet?" Alan grumbled.

"Alan," Jeff breathed, pulling his son closer to him in relief.

"She pulled me down and I had to land on the shoulder and wrist I already had hurt, didn't I?" Alan moaned.

All eyes turned to Abby from where Gordon was making sure she was uninjured. Shrugging, she gave a small smile. "I moved closer to Alan when the creepazoid was focused on Dr. Pierce. When he got ready to shoot, I just grabbed Alan and pulled him to the floor."

Examining the wheelchair, Nate brought it upright before looking at the back of it. Pushing his finger through the bullet hole in the backrest, the detective looked at Jeff who responded by holding Alan even closer.

"Kid, you don't have a guardian angel – you have a whole squad on your side."

"Make that a platoon," Virgil grumbled as he switched places with Shana.

Abby, having stood up with Gordon's aid, headed out to the nurse's station to grab some supplies before running back in.

"Dr. Pierce! I forgot! The deputy – he's been stabbed," the nurse cried out even as she put the supplies on Alan's bed and ran back into the hallway.

Shana looked torn before Gordon picked up the phone. "We'll check out this room, Doc. You take the hallway. And I'll call for Security and additional troops."

Smiling her thanks, Shana headed out of the room, giving Nate's arm a quick squeeze. He nodded, knowing that she was "Dr. Pierce" right now. She would need her husband later, but for now, in doctor mode, she just needed to take care of her patients.

Virgil grabbed some of the supplies from the bed, beginning the task of cleaning John's wound before he could apply stitches. "Gordo," he said absently as he began tossed out some bloody gauze and prepared to begin stitching. "Check out the Sprout, will ya?"

Exhausted, Alan lay back against his father's chest but roused himself enough to grumble, "I'm fine, Virg."

Having finished up with the operator and requesting the appropriate aid, Gordon moved over to where his youngest brother lay in their father's arms. Examining Alan's broken wrist and injured shoulder, the red-haired Tracy ignored his younger sibling's self-diagnosis and spoke instead to Virgil.

"Looks like the cast protected his wrist well enough. Shoulder looks ok as well," Gordon reeled off before lifting Alan's hospital tunic. "Ribs don't seem any worse than before." He leaned his head towards Alan's chest. "Breath sounds all good. I think he dodged the bullet with his ribs."

Gordon froze, looking up at his father, worried about Jeff's reaction to that statement. Jeff, however, was too concerned with Alan to have noticed the ill-chosen phrase. Judging from the dirty looks Virgil and John were sending him, they had not missed it. He would be hearing about that one later. Sighing, Gordon continued his exam.

"We should have them order another scan," Gordon said. "They can double-check for any new damage as well."

"Gordy," Alan said softly. When his brother glanced up, Alan continued. "My legs -"

"It's a full-body scan," Virgil said absently, focused on finishing up John's stitches. "They'll be checking everything, Al."

"My legs kinda hurt."

Jeff froze his hand in mid-stroke through Alan's blonde hair. Looking down, he saw his youngest son watching him intently.

"Alan?" Jeff whispered before turning to Virgil, a hopeful expression on his face.

All three of the middle Tracy sons turned to look at the youngest son, with Virgil breaking out of his stupor first, scrambling over to Alan and nudging Gordon aside. Grabbing one of Alan's feet, he pulled off the slipper sock the hospital insisted on and ran his thumb nail over the bottom of his brother's foot. At the slight twitch of Alan's leg reacting to the touch on the youngest Tracy's always-sensitive sole, Virgil began to smile.

Gordon grabbed a pen from a nearby table, lightly brushing Alan's other leg. His grin was worthy of the after effects of a classic prank when he received a slight jerk for his efforts.

"Virg?" John asked in a soft, hopeful voice, afraid of saying anything else.

"His legs hurt," Virg said quietly before leaning back and letting out a yell that brought Detective Matthews running back into the room. The detective pushed aside Trevor, who he had left with his back-up piece guarding the door – after all, they were unsure if anyone else had been with Asesino – and rushed to the Tracys, only to see the family sitting on the floor, laughing and hugging each other. Confused, Nate shook his head and headed back out to the hallway, to await back up.

Before he left the room, Trevor stifled a chuckle when he heard the detective mutter, "And Shay says my family is weird."

* * *

_**A/N - Nope. Not that evil after all. This one was also a bit short but the next chapter, due up this weekend, is longer. So one more chapter and an eplilogue. Sniff - I'm gonna miss this. - CC**_


	39. Ch 38 Isn't Life Funny at Times?

**Left By The Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - OK, if I don't own it by now, I doubt I ever will.**_

**__****Last chapter before the epilogue. Did anyone guess how I got the chapter titles?**

**

* * *

**

Chapter 38 – Isn't Life Funny at Times?

Trevor Ballard handed back the back-up piece to Detective Matthews with a small smile. Looking back into the room, he commented to Gordon, "I know you are excited about your Alan, but I still need to find my Allen. I don't suppose…"

"Oh my God!" Joyce cried out, causing Shana and Abby to look up from where they were treating the fallen officers.

Nate frowned and moved around the nurses' station, reaching down to pull up the nurse from where she had remained throughout. Abby looked disgusted before returning to checking over the security officer. Shana had shrugged, muttering, "I knew she wasn't emergency room material," before continuing to treat the stab wound.

Joyce glared at Shana. Everyone knew if Dr. Pierce didn't want you in the ER, you were excluded from the area. Unfortunately, that made any other department head thinking of having you in their area look at you askance as well. It was irrelevant that Joyce had already decided to leave Baystate Medical Center. She wanted it to be entirely her own decision and not because an influential doctor decided she wasn't a good match for the facility.

Glancing over at Trevor, Joyce pushed down her feelings of resentment. "Um, are you Trevor Ballard?" When the Marine nodded, she continued.

"Nurse Fox sent me to tell security and then I was supposed to come here and relieve Abby. She's down in Trauma Three with one of the Tracys – I think he's the oldest son – and an Allen Ballard. He -"

Joyce was cut off when Trevor's eyes went wide, ignoring the elevators that had opened, discharging medical and security personnel who swamped the scene. Trevor ran to the propped open stairwell and began to race down to the ground floor, barely aware of Gordon following close on his heels.

* * *

Albert Ballard sat in the old car he had purchased with the money his sister had wired him. After picking up the wire at the Western Union, Albert had cashed the money and headed over to an address he had gotten off of Craig's List. Five hundred dollars had exchanged hands and an eleven year old sedan with a dent in the passenger door was his. He smirked as he recalled promising the recent college grad that he would make sure all of the paperwork was filed. There was no way in hell he would register the car.

His sister Louise was fanatically loyal to him and would do whatever she could to protect her baby brother. Louise had never thought his wife was good enough for him and resented the children, seeing them as "anchors tying you to that dead weight". Her late husband had relatives in Maryland and she had simply contacted them that her "poor brother" needed a job and a place to stay. It was a convenience apartment and an hourly position, but it was better than what waited for him if his son had his way. That was a stay with the state of Massacusetts in a cell for ten years, minimum.

He didn't concern himself with his children, figuring the oldest two were now adults and Allen was better off with his brother in any case. Trevor had adored Allen from the moment the kid was born. Both Trevor and Heather had been close to their mother, but it was the five year old that truly bound the three. They were certainly far closer to each other than they had ever been with their father. It was especially true in the case of his two sons.

Then again, being a parent had never been as important to Albert as it had been for the late Michelle, his wife of more than twenty years. For better or for worse, the only emotion his children raised in Albert's case these days was resentment. He was king of the castle and supposed to be the center of his wife's world. But when her "babies" were around, Albert felt like a second class citizen.

No, what had happened was for the best. His wife was dead and Trevor would be so desperate to keep him away from Allen, no one would be expecting him to have anything to do with the little brat. Albert was free to start a whole new path for his life.

Taking a swig from the bottle of whiskey he had bought at the package store, Albert eased back onto the highway. He wanted to get to 95 South and that made making good time on the Mass Turnpike essential.

* * *

Scott Tracy smiled down at the little boy who had begun to stir. "I think he'll wake up shortly," he whispered to Allison.

The nurse smiled back at the oldest Tracy son and then at Dr. Hung. The young physician nodded at the nurse. "Am I being replaced as doctor here?" he joked lightly.

Allison chuckled. "No, Dr. Hung, but Dr. Pierce has mentioned that the Tracys are all trained as medics."

"Well," Dr. Hung muttered, "I'm not surprised about Virgil, but -" Seeing Scott's shocked look, the younger man shrugged. "I was at Princeton as a senior when he was a freshman. Virgil Tracy was fascinated with medicine. I could never figure out why he was a mechanical engineering major and not pre-med."

Scott shrugged in return. "Virg always liked to know how things worked. We just thought the medicine stuff was part of that. Besides, he loves the work he does for Tracy Enterprises."

Dr. Hung still thought it a waste but who was he to judge? His family, all academics, still couldn't understand his fascination with medicine and healing in general. Watching Scott Tracy brush back the little boy's blonde hair, he recalled Virgil talking about his own family, especially his brothers.

"I can recall some freshmen talking about their families. Most people didn't know Virgil was Jeff Tracy's son. He was forever going on about his brothers. He mentioned, more than once, his baby brother. I mean, we knew he had three other brothers. Two were older, and were apparently perfect," Hung said wryly.

Scott just grinned, encouraging the doctor to continue. "A third brother was a bit younger than Virgil and had a twisted sense of humor."

"That would be Gordy," Scott muttered.

"And then there was a youngest brother. Virgil's voice always softened when he talked about his "Sprout". He said the kid looked like their mother – same blue eyes, blonde hair and smile. It was the youngest brother he seemed to miss the most. A couple of times his roommate even mentioned how he would call home and sing the kid to sleep."

"It was always hard for us to leave Alan behind," Scott said absently. "I don't think the kid ever realized how much it hurt us to do so. We only wanted to look out for him and protect him. We just wanted to keep him safe."

"As a mother, can I tell you a secret?" Scott's quick nod encouraged Allison to continue. "You can't. You can never keep them completely safe. All you can do is love them, encourage them and care for them as best you can. Oh, and let anyone who even looks at them funny know that you would cheerfully rip their liver out if they hurt your baby."

Scott let out a bark of laughter which ended quickly when Allen made a small noise. Whipping back to the little boy, Scott spoke in a soft, tender tone he had usually reserved for family.

"Hey, Allen," Scott said gently. "You want to wake up -"

Scott suddenly stopped speaking when the door to the trauma room slammed open and a frantic Trevor Ballard ran in. The Marine ran to his brother's side, with Dr. Hung wisely stepping back to let Trevor have ready access to his sibling.

"Allie. Baby, can you hear me?" Trevor cried, tears streaming down his face. "Please, Baby, we just lost Mama. We need our baby bear. Please, Allie."

Allen's eyes fluttered open and he looked up at his brother. "Trebor," he whispered from behind the oxygen mask. "Yous not mad at me?"

"Never baby," Trevor said gently, brushing his hand over his brother's hair. "And Aunt Louise is wrong. You are wanted and you are loved. And you never have to see her again, I promise. If Mom had lived, you both would have been coming to live with me at my base. Now, Heather even can go to a better school than she was going to. See, I couldn't get family housing if my kinda grown-up sister was with me. But with you, I can. So the three Ballard kids get to stick together. And Heather can go to a much nicer school while you can go to a great school that has lots of other Marine brats. That's what you will be now – a Marine Brat."

Scott smiled at the little boy. "Yeah, Allen. You'll get to be a Rug Rat." When Allen looked confused, Scott chuckled. "It's another way of saying a military kid. The joke was that military parents would roll up their kids in a rug to move them from base to base. Do you know something? You're friend Gordon came this close," he said holding his fingers an inch apart, "to being an Air Force brat. But our dad left the service before Gordon was born. Poor kid, he was just a plain old civilian."

"You knows Gordon?" Allen asked, his blue eyes wide.

"Scott is my big brother," Gordon said from the doorway. When Scott looked up at the red head, Gordon took a deep breath.

"Scott, um, something happened while we were gone -"

His eyes wide, Scott turned from Allen completely. "Alan? Is he OK? Did Barry Shaheen get to him?"

"Well," Trevor tried to explain. "It was all kinda surreal. It wasn't that Shaheen kid, it was the other guy from the newspaper. Um – Ass, I mean. Oh, some gang leader -"

"Asesino Herrera?" Allison gasped.

"Yeah, that was it," Trevor nodded. "Any how, he attacked the security on your brother's room. Knocked one guy out, stabbed another. Then he must have got the gun from the deputy but your brother – John?" he asked, continuing when Gordon signaled that he had the name right.

"Well, he got a knife wound trying to protect Alan, but then the detective – Matthews? Who I gather is married to your brother's doctor. The crazy guy tried to get both the doctor and Alan but well - I had gotten the gun the cop had been made to drop."

"Is Herrera dead?" Scott asked coldly, leaving no doubt to anyone if he wasn't he soon would be.

"He is," Gordon assured him. "But he got off a shot. Alan -"

Scott went pale, running from the room. Gordon looked at the shuddering door, shaking his head. "Alan is ok," he said to the blank space where his brother had been. Sparing a look at the Ballards, he gave a shrug and a smile as he chased after his oldest brother.

"Trebor?" Allen spoke softly, not continuing until he was sure he brother was looking at him. Once he was assured of that, the five year old said, "Is Gordon and his brudders gonna be OK?"

Kissing the little boy on the forehead, Trevor gathered his brother close to his chest. Nodding, he whispered, "Yeah, kiddo – I think Gordon and his brothers are going to be just fine."

* * *

Barry moved slowly towards the rest stop he knew existed on the Mass Turnpike, not far from I-95. Shortly after leaving the hospital parking lot, Barry had been picked up by a college student heading home for the summer. Acting as if he were a fellow student, the fugitive was thinking he could probably con the guy into giving him a ride all the way to the driver's final destination of New York.

But at a rest stop, the guy pulled over to use the rest room. Relaxing next to the car, Barry froze when he looked over towards the plaza and saw his companion speaking excitedly to an employee and gesturing towards the 24-hour news station above the clerk's head. As soon as the clerk picked up the phone on his desk, Barry had sprinted across the parking lot.

Keeping to the overgrowth that was not as well trimmed as it once was, thanks to cuts to the state's highway department, Barry bypassed opportunities for rides as he knew they could also get him busted. At the final rest stop Barry knew there would be plenty of truckers. If he couldn't hitch a ride, he would hide in the back of a cargo area.

_Freedom is so close I can taste it. I'm headed for my destiny, I just know it._

* * *

Alan bit back a grumble as he was loaded onto a gurney to be taken down for more tests.

"OK, Alan," Shana said casually, "I have called ahead for your body scan and the neurologist and orthopedist will both want to take a look at you. I'll be there as soon as I have the deputy put back together."

"Taking on a new patient now that you can get rid of me?" Alan joked, trying to ignore – or simply to enjoy – the slight cramping feeling in his legs.

"Listen kid," Shana punched his shoulder, "I hope to not see you or yours again any time soon. Then again," she muttered for Jeff's ears only, "I hadn't planned on seeing you again at all."

"But," Jeff responded just as softly, "We will be forever grateful that you were there. I can never thank you enough."

Pulling out her locket and looking at the picture of her sons, Shana smiled gently. "You already had."

The group tensed when a clattering in the stairwell could be heard through the still propped open door. Two uniformed officers moved to block the door, now held open by a magazine jammed under the door instead of an injured man's foot.

Scott burst through, struggling against the policemen who tried to stop him. "Let me go," he growled.

Alan pushed himself up slightly. "Scotty!" he called out, grinning at the way his brother froze.

Jeff had stepped away from his youngest son's side to aid his first born. "Officers, it's alright. That's my son, Scott. Where is -" His question ended in mid-sentence when Gordon barreled through the doorway, only to knock Scott and the officers down.

Hands reached down to pull the men up, Scott brushing them aside to run to Alan.

"Allie, how bad is it? Dr. Pierce," he turned to Shana, grabbing her arm. "How bad -"

"I tried to tell him the bullet missed Alan," Gordon explained as he joined the group. "Hell, Johnny was hurt worse than Al this time."

John's _I'm fine _was noted for handling later as Scott turned back to Alan. "Well, if he's fine, why is he back on a gurney?"

"Because his legs hurt," Virgil said with a wide grin.

It took a minute for the words to sink in as Scott looked at the gathered medical personnel and his family with a hopeful heart. "His legs hurt?" he asked, his voice hushed as if afraid to say the words aloud. When everyone nodded and smiled at him, Scott pulled his little brother into his arms and whispered, "I knew you could do it, Sprout." The two brothers held onto each other for a moment, silent in their joy. Both were filled with gratitude - Alan thankful for his family that had stood beside him when he was unable to stand, never giving up on him once; Scott found himself praying silently, with love and gratitude.

_Thank you, Mom. I know you are our angel. I'm keeping my promise, Mom. I'll take care of him better, I swear._

The scent of lilac filled the hallway, triggering memories for all of the Tracys of the woman who had loved them so much. Scott felt a warm touch on his shoulder, like a gentle hand. He turned slightly, expecting to see his father, stunned when no one was directly behind him. Looking for Jeff, Scott was startled to see the Tracy patriarch smiling softly, his head tilted slightly as if listening to someone speaking to him.

_Rocket man – do something about your son. Make sure he knows what a good job he has done all these years. I love all of you so much, Jeff._

Seeing his sons looking at him in expectation, Jeff smiled. "Let's get this test over with so we can go home, OK, boys?"

At the cheerful response to that, the Tracys headed towards the elevator, knowing that tonight they would all be in the best place in the world – home.

* * *

Barry Shaheen slowly crept closer to the edge of the road, the parking lot of the rest stop he had been aiming for only 300 feet away. Soon he would be on his way to freedom. No one would be looking for him down in Florida. Even if Asesino wasn't around, he was sure he would find his destiny –

His thoughts – and a goodly portion of his body – were shattered by the impact of a swerving car. Tumbling back down into the gulley that marked the beginning of the off-ramp, Barry fell among the debris that had drifted down from the highway. Hearing the sound of a car pulling to the side of the road, the engine idling, Barry's heart filled with hope. He was hurt – sure. But he would be getting help soon enough.

Through blurred vision Barry saw the man look down at him before he rushed away. He could hear the sound of a car door slam and tires squealing as the vehicle pulled away. Cursing fate, Barry would lie there for almost twenty four hours before finally losing unconsciousness for good and dying three hours after that. His final thought was that he didn't deserve this.

_Damn it! _Albert Ballard thought frantically. _I don't deserve this kind of shit. What the hell was that kid doing on the side of the road? Let's hope no one finds him. Nobody saw it happen and I don't need the hassle. He was probably nobody anyways._

Albert Ballard drove away, sobered for the moment by his automotive mishap, heading to his new life, forgetting about his wife, his kids and an eighteen year old boy he left to die in a trash strewn culvert on the side of the road.

* * *

_**A/N - Wow. It's over. Well, except the epilogue. For anyone who thought Barry was going to get away with what he did - You don't know Jack. Or CC.**_

_**Alan - Lady, remind me to never to piss you off.**_

**_Jeff - Alan! Language._**

**_CC - With all due respect, that is a common response._**

**_Jeff - Sigh. Where are your brothers?_**

**_Alan - Gordy is scared of CC and Virgil is preparing his first aid supplies, since he heard CC is preparing a sequel. (CC grins when Jeff looks at her nervously.) And CC introduced Scott to Jean and John to Sam1 so they went to grab a bite to eat._**

**_CC - Don't worry, I'll still be introducing the boys to their wives. I mean, this is an AU from my Tracy Family series, but I will be borrowing some of my OCs. I just think the girls are too perfect for the boys. Which of course, means some birth orders may be shifted. Done that before. In the Thunderbirds/seaQuest trilogy, Emily meets John before Kate meets Scott and is pregnant before her. And while many of the birth orders are restored in the Thunderbirds/Supernatural stories, Gordon's twins will be born before any of Alan's kids, a switch from the my first series. After all, if things went the same way in each set of stories, I may as well cut and paste._**

**_Alan - That makes sense...OMG - am I agreeing with you on ANYTHING?_**

**_CC - Yeah, that's how my daughter feels at time. Oh, my daughter posted her first story on fan fic._**

**_Jeff (looks nervous) - A Thunderbirds story?_**

**_CC - Oh no (both look relieved) Although her favorite story is Andrewjameswilliams "Thundershock". She likes Alan centered stories, not neccessarily whump though. No, my daughter wrote a Transformers Animated story. Her pen name is White Tiger Bumblebee. Yes, that is a shameless plug for her. (Sigh) I'm gonna miss this story._**

**_Alan - How long a reprieve will we get?_**

**_CC - I hope to have the next story, which takes place between this chapter and the epilogue, up in about two weeks. John will be playing a big role in this and much to Sam1's annoyance Emily will show up, but not as a major character._**

**_Jeff - Sounds fair. You going to give me another heart attack?_**

**_CC- Jeff, I didn't give you an heart attack. (Mutters) In ths story. C'mon - relax, enjoy your break and have a glass of sweet tea. Apple pie and no Scott around..._**

**_Alan - Dad, I say we have a glass of tea, a slice of pie and enjoy the repireve._**

**_Jeff - How did you get to be so mature?_**

**_Alan - When compared to Gordon, it was easy._**

**_CC - That's my boy. Cheers, love! Take care, read the epilogue once I get it up and I will be back with Little Miss Bump's Birthday present in ten to fourteen days. And say thanks to the readers - They are the reason I keep to my no death-fics rule._**

**_Alan and Jeff - THANK YOU!_**


	40. Epilogue

**Left by the Wayside**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - Never owned it, never will.**_

**_Just read a one-shot that makes a great missing scene for the Thunderbirds Movie - Finishing Touches by Moogsthewriter. I mean, really - they went from the BBQ to blasting off. If you want to see what happened in between..._**

* * *

**Epilogue – One Year Later**

Jeff Tracy sat up in the bleachers, the sunglasses that shaded his eyes may have made him less easily recognized, but nothing could hide the smile on his face.

"Nice way to celebrate Al's birthday, huh, Dad?" Gordon asked from beside him, handing his father a cold bottle of water and a hot dog from the concession stand.

With a smile and a nod, Jeff agreed, standing up for a moment to allow John and his wife, Emily, to reclaim their seats on the other side of him. Scott and Virgil, seated in front of them with Tin-Tin and Fermat, completed the group.

Virgil nodded his thanks as John handed his and Scott's snacks to them, while Gordon passed the treats to the two teenagers. Looking over his shoulder, Scott snickered at the food in the box.

"A chocolate sundae _instead _of a hot dog? John, Virgil is gonna read you the riot act on good nutrition."

"Scott," Virgil mumbled as he took a quick bite from his own snack, "John's married to a doctor. I think she can read him the riot act better than I can."

Emily chuckled. She had never been happier since she had met John Tracy the previous summer. Shana Pierce-Matthews was forever telling her that she had known the couple would be perfect for each other. Damn it, but the woman was right. Score one for Shay.

John leaned over and gave his wife a quick kiss before handing her the chocolate sundae. "Hate to tell you, Virg, but the treat is for the wife." He pulled a hot dog from the bottom of the box and began to munch on it.

"Yeah," Gordon chuckled. "Em managed to eat her hot dog and some fries on the way back."

"Little Emily ate that fast?" Scott said in surprise. "Sure your wife isn't eating for two, Johnny?"

Emily and John both froze. The couple, who had been married since Christmas, looked at each other but remained silent. When the remaining Tracys – as well as Tin-Tin and Fermat – turned to look at them, John sighed.

"You know, I'm surprised Alan has remained this close-lipped about it," John admitted.

"Alan knew?" Tin-Tin asked in surprise.

"Are you serious?" Gordon gasped.

"That Alan knows?" Emily asked, taking another bite of the sundae and almost groaning in delight. This was definitely John Tracy's kid. She had never been crazy about chocolate, but since she had become pregnant, it was as if she couldn't get enough.

"No" and "Yes" were heard equally, confusing the couple and forcing Jeff out of his shock.

"Emily's pregnant?" Jeff finally questioned his second son.

"Yes, Dad," John beamed as he took his wife's hand. "We found out during Spring Break but wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little while."

Standing up, Jeff reached around John and gave Emily a quick hug. "Emily, that is wonderful." Pulling his son into his arms, Jeff whispered, "Your mother would have been thrilled."

John nodded, before adding, "Elizabeth Lucille if it's a girl."

Jeff chuckled as he moved back, allowing his other sons to reach out for their brother and sister-in-law. He decided not to remind his son that there hadn't been a Tracy Daughter born in nearly two centuries. All Jeff could hope for was that they had thought of boy names as well.

"Hey, how did Alan find out first?" Virgil asked after the excitement had died down.

"Well," Emily explained around another bite of her sundae, "we got here yesterday, even if the rest of you didn't get here until this morning."

"Em," Scott muttered, "you know we had to take care of _business."_

Emily chuckled at the family's euphemism for International Rescue. She was aware that after Brains had relieved John on Five – allowing the remaining Tracys to gather in Massachusetts for Alan's sixteenth birthday – the family had secured Thunderbird One at a secure location not far from here. Jeff's purchase of a closed military base for "future development" was useful if they needed to have ready access to the 'Birds. But Emily and John had arrived the night before and taken Alan out to dinner.

"So, we took Alan to dinner and I almost hurled when the person behind me ordered salmon." She glared at her husband of six months. "I used to love salmon. I was never crazy about chocolate. This is so your kid."

John simply grinned before picking up the story. "So Alan takes one look at me and says Emily looks like his one teacher did when she was pregnant. Since we had pretty much the same response to his comment as yours, well – I always said he was a bright kid."

"Damn," Scott muttered. When his family looked at him in confusion, he grumbled, "I'm the oldest. But John gets married first, he has the first grandkid…It's so wrong."

"He did call dibs," Gordon joked, causing the entire family to laugh as they recalled John's reaction the first time he saw a picture of Emily.

Emily frowned slightly and shook her head before refocusing on the field below. "John, what's the next event Alan is in?"

John looked at the form in front of him and nodded. "OK, the one mile and the hurdles are out of the way, but the relay is coming up in about fifteen minutes."

The Tracys spoke quietly amongst themselves, mainly on the news of the upcoming baby but also about their plans for the weekend. Alan sometimes had come home for his birthdays and last year John had flown out for the weekend but between Alan not wanting to miss representing Wharton's at the State Championship for Track and Field and the stress the anniversary of the Hood's attack had caused, Jeff thought it a good idea for the entire family to have a few days of R&R.

Fermat looked over the Tracys as they joked and laughed and wondered how much of the stress had also been caused by the approaching anniversary of Alan's accident. He could still recall the pain of waiting for news, not knowing if Alan was alive or dead. And then his father had taken Fermat to California while Alan was still unconscious. By the time they had arrived back in New England, Alan was awake and taken his first painful, tenuous steps.

Reaching over and grabbing Tin-Tin's hands, the two friends smiled at each other. They had both spent a large part of last summer with Alan, helping the teenager learn to walk again. It hadn't been as simple as he had regained feeling in his lower extremities. The swelling and bruising along his spinal column had to be treated with care or Alan could have easily regressed.

Alan had been disappointed when a check-up in August had made it clear that he would not be on the fall track team.

_Tin-Tin had come into Alan's room – careful to leave the door wide open for their family's mental health – and found the teenager sitting morosely on his balcony. "Alan," she called gently, absently noticing that her boyfriend's room was cleaner than she could ever recall it. Onaha had cleaned it thoroughly when they were worried Alan would be brought back to the island in a wheelchair. Amazingly, Alan had kept in clean since he had come home._

"_Alan," she called gently. When he didn't look up, the young Malaysian girl sat down next to him and took one of his hands. "Alan, what did the doctors say?"_

"_They said no track team," Alan said morosely. "And Em says no rescues." John had confided the truth to Emily not long after they had begun dating. Jeff would have objected but he could see this was clearly not a casual relationship. Besides, wasn't the original reason Shana had for introducing Emily to bring an Emergency Medical Specialist on board?_

"_Forever?" Tin-Tin asked, aghast. She knew how much being denied being a field operative – or track – would destroy the boy she loved._

"_No," Alan sighed, finally looking up. "They want to review things again at Thanksgiving. But for now, no track. The coach needed an answer. So, guess there is no reason for me to head back to school early."_

_Pulling his hand to her lips, Tin-Tin kissed it gently. "As sorry as I am that you can't run track or work in the field at the moment, if only because how disappointed you are, I can't say I am completely disappointed." At Alan's inquisitive look, she smiled. "I get to keep you around for ten extra days. And you don't know how to give up, Alan Tracy. Keep up you exercises, keep doing what the doctors tell you to and I promise you, I will be there next spring to watch you run Track."_

"_We all will," a voice from the doorway assured Alan. The teenagers looked up to see Jeff Tracy smiling at his son._

"_You get well enough to be on the Spring team and I promise you, at some point, the whole family will be there."_

_Alan's beaming face warmed both his girlfriend's and father's hearts. Months later, when Alan was cleared to run Track again – as well as working in the field for International Rescue – Jeff noticed the Statewide Track Finals, to be held at University of Massachusetts at Amherst, were only about thirty miles away from Wharton's the same weekend as Alan's sixteenth birthday. Alan's joy was obvious when his father promised that if Alan's team made it to the finals he would make sure the entire family would be there. Half-way through the season, the coach called Jeff to thank him for giving Alan such a motivator. The teenager who once had not known if he would ever walk again was quickly gaining a reputation as a powerhouse in his chosen sport. _

_Knowing his son's will and determination, Jeff began to set in motion the plans to spend that weekend in Massachusetts. _

Tin-Tin was pulled out of her memories by a voice saying, "Mr. Tracy?"

All of the Tracys tensed, wondering if a reporter had managed to make it into the family section. A young woman, with jet black hair pulled back at the nape of her neck and dark glasses shading her eyes, whipped out an ID.

"Special Agent Eppes -"

Emily stood up, handing John the now empty sundae dish and grinning at the newcomer. "Kate! Kate Eppes, as I live and breathe what are you doing here?"

The agent pulled off her glasses and smiled at Emily. "Emily Haas – I could say the same thing. Edward said you had moved to New Zealand."

"Edward?" Virgil asked, curious.

"Ex-Boyfriend" "Cousin" the two women answered at the same time before chuckling.

Still smiling, Agent Eppes shrugged. "Emily dated my cousin, Dr. Edward Eppes. He's a cardio-thoracic surgeon at Cedar-Sinai."

"She's now Emily Tracy," John said calmly, knowing his wife loved him but not really wanting to hear about an ex-boyfriend.

"Really?" Agent Eppes asked. When Emily just smiled, the agent leaned down. "Your mother?"

"Can kiss my tushy," Emily said calmly. "If marrying Jeff Tracy's son is the only way to get her approval, she can take a long walk off a short pier."

"Preferably carrying a cinder block?" Agent Eppes asked with a grin.

"You've met Susan Haas," Jeff said bluntly, having heard his daughter-in-law's description of her estranged parent.

"Oh, yeah," the agent drawled. "And considering Uncle Charlie's family doesn't even really practice our faith, the fact that she objected to someone of the Eppes family heritage dating her daughter was almost funny."

"Right until she called you -" Emily began only for Kate Eppes to growl at her.

"Yeah, I know what she called me. I still am amazed at people who are openly anti-Semitic. Susan Haas would have fit in nicely in 1930's Germany."

"As nice as it is to meet you, is there a purpose to this?" Virgil asked, wondering why Scott hadn't said anything yet. That was until he looked at his oldest brother. Virgil hid a smile at the dumbstruck look on his face; it was similar to one John had worn a year earlier when he had called dibs. Sharing a grin with Gordon they shared a single thought:

_Scott was a goner for sure._

"Yes, Kate," Emily asked, puzzlement on her face. "I thought you were working for the Computer Crimes Division of the Bureau."

"I was until I got shot arresting someone who was trying to steal some top-secret software that had been deemed an act of treason due to its national security implications." At Jeff's startled look, she nodded. "Yes, with the Tracy Enterprises software."

"They said an agent had been injured," Jeff said, standing. "But I wasn't given any further information."

"My dad's kind of protective," Agent Eppes shrugged. At Scott's confused look, she grinned. "My father is the director of the FBI. He hoped that this would encourage me to look into other career choices. When that didn't work, I found myself with the East Coast Division, working fugitive retrieval. Recently, two of my files intersected."

Scott had stood, moving the rest of the row down so Kate Eppes could sit. The woman smiled her thanks, sitting down before continuing.

"I sat down to speak to a man who had been charged in the death of his wife last year. Albert Ballard had -"

"We know what he had done," Gordon growled. Seeing Kate's confused look at his anger, the red-head sighed. "I'm friends with Trevor Ballard."

"Oh," Kate said cautiously before continuing. "Well, his sister, Louise Byrnes had been assisting him in getting away and hiding out in Maryland. Recently she was visiting him when he drove drunk again, once more killing his passenger. This time it was his sister that was killed. When the Maryland State Police ran his prints they discovered Francis Byrnes was actually Albert Ballard. Since several of his crimes were interstate, they asked us to escort him back to Massachusetts."

"Once here," Agent Eppes explained, "he was trying to make sure he would be tried here and not Maryland. They have harsher penalties for repeat offenders. So he admitted to an accident no one knew about. Ballard said he had run down some kid near a rest stop on the Mass Turnpike. We examined the area and found a skeleton. With the budget cuts in Massachusetts over the last few years, no one had done any maintenance beyond keeping the brush and trash from the edge of the road."

"As fascinating as this is," Virgil interrupted, "what does this have to do with us?"

Kate looked at them firmly. "The body belonged to Barack Shaheen, age eighteen. I believe you knew him. In fact, he had been threatened by several members of the Tracy family."

"As I dislike hypocrites, I won't become one," Scott said. "I won't say I'm sorry to hear that creep is dead. He nearly killed our brother and showed no remorse. For him to die in a manner similar to how Alan almost died because of Shaheen, shows that Karma has a wicked sense of humor."

"Don't even try and tell me you wouldn't react the same way with your family, Kate," Emily said bluntly.

"Nope," Kate reasoned, snitching a French fry from Scott with a grin. "Just figured your family would want to know he would never be a threat to Alan again."

Kate Eppes smiled at Scott when he handed her a bottle of water, settling back with his encouragement when Alan's event was announced. From what she knew about the Tracys, this could be the beginning of something interesting. And if the smile Scott Tracy was giving her matched her own, maybe her father could stop worrying about her with the FBI soon. This was one time she was glad she had kept with the follow-up.

Jeff watched his oldest son smiling at the attractive agent and almost laughed. Once more the family legacy of falling hard and fast was coming into play.

At the sound of the starter's gun, the family leaned forward, watching the first three Wharton boys running, with the third neck and neck with two other runners before handing off the baton to Alan. The youngest Tracy grabbed the baton and began to run as if the hounds of hell were after him. Yelling at the top of their lungs and leaping to their feet, the Tracys were reminded of how less than a year ago they wondered if Alan would ever walk again. As he pushed in one last burst of speed and broke the tape at the finish line, Alan Tracy looked up in the crowd and smiled at his family.

Like he had promised – Alan hadn't just walked again. He had run.

* * *

_**A/N - Wow. Finished. Working on sequel - Alan and John Walked into a Bank, coming to a fan fic page near you. Thank you to Sammygirl1963 for all her beta work and to Sam1 for her input and influence (especially noteworthy when I was being a smart ass). I would send each chapter to both of them. Jean would give me corrections and suggestions. Sam1? She went back and forth with smart aleck comments to which I HAD to answer. I wish I could post all of them because you would laugh as hard as the three of us did (I sent them on to Jean as well when we were done with the comments).**_

**_Thank you all for the support I got on this story. It was a fun ride. - CC_**

**_PS - Should I do the convos again in the next story?_**


End file.
